Teyrna
by aeiparthenos
Summary: Inspired by the amazing story Unshaken by the Darkness. Warning: NSFW, M-rating. Triggers: Medieval view of women and marriage, underage marriage, infidelity and domestic abuse. Rewrite in progress. Chapter 1-14 is done.
1. Prologue

ŦEYRNA

– Prologue

 _24_ _th_ _Justinian, 9:10 Dragon_

 _Highever Castle_

Just over nine centuries after the beginning of andrastian time, into the era of the Dragon and eight years after the end of the Fereldan Rebellion, Margaret Elissa Haelia Eleanor Cousland was born in Highever Castle, sitting on the top of the Highland cliffs, gazing out over the Highland Mountains to the northwest. Highever Castle was the stronghold and crowning glory of the Cousland family since generations dating back to before Calenhad the Great, the first Fereldan king. The Couslands were second only to the royal family in wealth and power in Ferelden and governed the first of the two remaining Teyrnirs in the newly freed Ferelden. King Maric Theirin, _Maric the Saviour_ , ruled Ferelden with the help of his loyal general and the second Teyrn of Ferelden and the Hero of River Dane, Loghain Mac Tir. Ferelden, for the first time in almost a century, experienced peace. The occupation of Ferelden had ended in 9:2 Dragon, after over fifty years of tyrannical oppression by the sadistic usurper King Meghren from the neighbouring empire Orlais, and the Orlesian chevaliers were driven out and Ferelden once again were declared a sovereign Kingdom. Finally Fereldan culture could thrive on its own without forced influence from the Empire and with 900 years of Calenhad blood running through his veins, King Maric and his rule was the embodiment of a free Ferelden and truly the most significant symbol for the infrangible pride of the Fereldan people.

Elissa Cousland was born of Teyrna Eleanor Mac Eanraig Cousland who was a distant kin of the royal family and could trace her bloodline back to Calenhad the Great, through the blackened family Dryden. Elissa's father was Teyrn Bryce Cousland, the single male heir to the Cousland wealth and legacy, who became Teyrn of Highever in the aftermath of the Rebellion when he reclaimed his family's castle from the Empire. The bloodlines of Elissa and her older brother Fergus were second only to King Maric's own son, prince Cailan Theirin, which made them third and fourth in line for the crown, since King Maric only had produced one child with his late wife Queen Rowan Guerrin Theirin.

It had been a long night of endurance for Eleanor. She couldn't remember her first birthing being this painful or as outdrawn, but it seemed the child who was to be delivered hadn't felt like greeting the world just yet. But Eleanor kept pushing until she couldn't muster the strength to push any longer. The mage midwife was determent to deliver this child into the world and with the help of her husbands strong and determined hands, holding her own, Eleanor pushed. She remembered the trials they had been put through during the Rebellion and swore she wouldn't let those be in vain, she swore on the Maker and his bride, on King Maric himself – this child was to be born that day, on the brightest night of the year. The Justinian Solstice.

The child presented to the Teyrn and Teyrna on the morning of the 24th of Justinian was small like a little doll, with fair skin, still slightly purple but rosy. It was a little girl and Eleanor was filled with pride and happiness when she counted the small fingers, ten small fingers and ten little toes. The girl was born with a thick thatch of dark brown hair on her head and the deepest blue eyes Eleanor had ever seen and Eleanor hoped this little girl would keep her deeply blue eyes through out her life.

"Little Elissa" Eleanor sighed lovingly looking down on the girl she cradled in her arms. Her husband came to sit by her side, smiling and reaching out, gently stroking his newborn daughter with a careful hand, letting the little girl grasp one of his big fingers with her tiny little ones.

"Elissa, is it? It suits her" he smiled, "An oath to the Maker"

"Yes, I can see it in her eyes, she's got the fire and faith of Haelia burning inside her" Eleanor smiled, looking first at her daughter and then at her proud husband beside her. Bryce kissed her and then leaned down to his daughter and kissed her tiny and lightly purple forehead.

Elissa were destined for greatness. There was something about this tiny girl with the large deeply blue eyes, something different and very special. It was as if she was persistent on coming into this world in her own time, forcing Eleanor to take control of her own body in a situation where she shouldn't have been able to. There was a stubbornness to the child that was fascinating from the second she drew her first breath. Born into a free land, born of a rebellion and with the whole of Thedas at her feet.


	2. 1

PARŦ ONE

 _10_ _th_ _August, 9:24_

 _Highever Castle_

Elissa wiped the sweat from her forehead with the palm of her hand, breathing heavily with her eyes closed on Fergus' movements two yards from her. In the warmth outside on the field, her dark leathers creaked and she could feel trinkets of sweat running down her spine underneath her armour. Her powdered hands clasped her smaller sword and shield tightly as she moved sideways following Fergus' every step, searching for the mistakes her older brother is sure to do, given enough time.

Fergus bashed his sword against his shield in a confident manner as he smiled teasingly towards her with one of his brows lifted. His little sister had surely grown up. She was almost a woman by now, with her 14, going on 15 years. She had long dark curls and her eyes had always kept their deeply blue colour since the day she was born and he saw her for the first time. Her cheekbones were high, though her cheeks retained a childish roundness that she'd probably never lose. As she followed his steps like a cat waiting to attack, he kept his green large eyes on her every movement, watching her growing hips move with excellence in time with his own steps.

Neither Elissa nor Fergus noticed they had an audience as they were completely caught up in their on-going pretend-battle. King Maric and Loghain Mac Tir had arrived to the castle, mainly to discuss the relationship with Orlais among other things, with Teyrn Bryce and celebrate All Soul's Day.

The years had progressed. King Maric had taken a special interest with the Cousland girl and continued to nurture his relationship. When Elissa's family was in Denerim, she would be escorted to the Palace to have tea with him or take walks in the garden. They also went on adventures all around Denerim, discovering to her, new parts of the city and at the same time learning of the history of Ferelden, with which she was immensely fascinated. At one point in the Palace, Loghain had approached the King during teatime while Elissa was visiting, she had then pleaded to both Loghain and the King that Loghain should train her in archery. She expressed that she couldn't think of anyone more suitable to teach her and the King had agreed with her. Loghain, needing a distraction from his wife's death just a few months back, thought it to be no harm in training the excited girl as long as her parents had given their permission. Both Bryce and Eleanor seemed slightly embarrassed by the girl's request, but they gave their blessing and Loghain took her to Fort Drakon.

Back in Highever, Loghain had asked about Elissa's progress in her archery training when they arrived during casual small talk and Bryce had been quick about showing them out to the field were Fergus and Elissa were training. Obviously it wasn't archery, though the fact that she'd taken up sword fighting didn't surprise him in the least.

As Loghain had relaxed his arms on the fence, watching Elissa and Fergus, he could easily tell the mistakes they were both doing. He especially noticed what Elissa needed to practice more. He also couldn't help himself in noticing what a beautiful young woman she'd turned into during the last eight months since he saw her last in the capital. Just the thought creeping into his head made him scowl, the feeling of being a lecherous man coming over him. And still, he looked.  
Her hips had broadened making her waist more pronounced and her hair was longer, it almost reached down to the now prominent curve of her back. Her hair was dark, not as raven like that of his own hair, and her curls made it flow like a wild waterfall down along her back and it seemed to bounce with her every move. ' _You should talk to Bryce, you need a wife my friend'_ , he could hear Maric's voice in the back of his head and he could feel his side wide glances peering at him from beside him, almost burning against his skin. ' _She's raised to be just exactly what you need, a Teyrna. Her mother is already in support of the idea of her daughter marrying you'_. Loghain had simply scoffed and told the King he was being ridiculous, there was no way in the void he'd marry a girl younger than his own daughter. That's not the kind of man he was and hopefully, never would be. ' _If you don't marry her, perhaps I shall'_ , the King had smirked and Loghain had tried to restrain the darkness growing in his eyes at the King's last comment. ' _She is of age, after all, Eleanor told me she's started bleeding'_. _How convenient_ , had been Loghain's only comment to the King's bluntness and ignorance to his grief over his dead wife. I wasn't the first time he resented Maric for being so careless and insufferable in his machinations.

Movement was Elissa's strength. She was not as strong as Fergus or any full grown man and she'd never be, but her quickness together with her small statue made her hard to hit and also made it easy for her to sneak attacks upon an unprepared enemy. And she was beautiful. _Maker's arse. Damn you Maric_. Why did he have to notice that? She was still not much more than a child, just recently becoming a woman in the physical sense of being able to produce children of her own. Loghain knew he shouldn't even begin have such thoughts about her, a child, and the fact that she was younger than his own daughter made him disgusted by his own thought. Still, he couldn't help himself in noticing. _Damn it. Damn it to the void_.

Elissa had been surprised to find that Fergus and herself had an audience as they practiced. She'd known that King Maric would come to visit and she'd been truly happy knowing that. And even more so, Loghain was with him for the visit. It had made her even happier and pleasantly surprised. She'd been fascinated by the stoic hero since she was a small child. There was something in his chillingly icy gaze that made it tingle inside her and her heart beat faster. She wanted to know more about him, but she hadn't dared to ask, not yet. He'd been a good, no, _great_ trainer to her for the last five years and she'd been able to work past her difficulties easily with Loghain's harsh training regime. He never went easy on her and she was glad he hadn't. Once during their training, he'd pushed her so hard with his shield she'd broken three of her ribs when she'd nagged him to try out a sword and shield. Loghain had finally gone along with it, putting his bow down and taught her some stances. Obviously, she wasn't prepared for the strength of his shield. Thankfully, the court mage had healed it easily enough and Elissa's parents were none the wiser. Loghain, however, refused to train her in swordsmanship again.

Now, he stood there watching her practice with her brother and she could feel his cold gaze on her, following her every move, judging them and evaluating them. This made her nervous, of course, but it also made her want to perform even better and push herself to her body's limits. She'd never known a trainer that pushed her as hard. Finally, with the help of a calculated sneaky move, she was able to disarm Fergus by predicting his moves beforehand and dodging his attack, parrying him with her elbow and finally circling him, striking him from behind. He would have been dead, if it was steel weapons and not wooden.

"Well done, my dear!" Maric shouted and turned Elissa's and Fergus' attention to the far end of the field, "Soon, you'd even give Rowan a run for her money, I'd say. Wouldn't you agree, Loghain? Maker, Bryce, your daughter is turning into a real battle maiden"

"She's been practicing vigorously", Bryce agreed with a faint smile and a nod. Elissa and Fergus had started to walk towards them. She couldn't help to notice how handsome Loghain looked, with his raven hair, flowing over his shoulders and back, as he stood leaned over the fence, his chiselled nose and stern tightly clenched lips. He wore dark leathers and a white linen shirt, just unbuttoned in the top with high boots and greaves with shining metal plates. He was causally dressed, as he usual was, with a knife hanging from his waist and another small dagger sticking out of his right boot, just underneath the side of his knee. Of course, King Maric was handsome as well, he looked slightly older than Loghain, which he was, but none the less – he had an older look about him. His long blonde hair reached just below his shoulders and he always wore a well-trimmed beard, complementing his sharp features and full lips. His eyes were almond shaped and blue, almost as deeply blue as her own, only a shade or two brighter and he was tall, as tall as her father, but not quite as tall as Loghain. Loghain. She secretly dreamed of him at night, when she reached down under her cover and touched herself in her most private parts. She would whisper his name when her body responded to the intense feeling of what she not yet could fully understand. She only knew she'd wish he was the one doing it to her, that it was his fingers, stroking and rubbing. The thought made her blush as she stopped in front of the King, Loghain and her father, and with a strained clearing of her throat she greeted the men before her.

"King Maric, Teyrn Loghain, what a lovely surprise", Elissa said and wiped her forehead and then reaching back to tousle her hair. She couldn't help herself from glancing a few seconds longer at Loghain, noticing his large sinewy and calloused hands.

"You are indeed a sight for sore eyes, lady Cousland" Maric said and smiled as he leaned out and kissed her cheek in a greeting, "You certainly had your work cut out Fergus, perhaps I should regret agreeing to let Loghain train her?" The king chuckled and winked at Elissa as his gaze then fell on Fergus. Fergus merely laughed, with a small hint of nervousness and glanced on Elissa and then on Loghain.

"I never taught her to fight with a sword and shield", Loghain said with a frown, looking at Elissa.

"Ha! You certain about that?" Fergus laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. Loghain raised an eyebrow, switching his gaze to Fergus.

"Yes", Loghain's face still looked stoic and humourless, seemingly oblivious to Fergus' accusation. His eyes caught Elissa's and he could see she looked back at him with a small but satisfied smile.

"Well, well – they're hardly fully taught warriors, thank the Maker", Bryce said with a relieved sigh, "Let's return to the castle. I believe my children both need a bath to get all that mud off of them. And we could surely use an ale or two before dinner"

"Hear, hear!" Maric agreed with a clap of his hands as the five of them started to walk towards the castle.

Maric directly continued his never-ending banter with Bryce and Fergus, while Loghain and Elissa walked in silence behind them. Elissa felt a warmth inside herself as she walked so close to Loghain and she could feel a blush growing from her chest up to her face and hoped the Teyrn didn't take notice.

Loghain couldn't help but to gaze at the young woman. She seemed to blush but he couldn't understand why, perhaps she was embarrassed Maric and himself had shown up during her training. That was ridiculous. He had trained her himself for years, weeks at a time – why would she be blushing now all of a sudden?

"Teyrn Loghain, will you perhaps have some time for sparring with me, during your visit?" A tender voice asked carefully, while large blue eyes glanced towards him.

"Hm", he grunted, "Yes, I think it might do you good", he answered going over the fight he had just witnessed in his thoughts, "We could go over the mistakes you did today"

She was still very much a small girl, in many ways. She was till short in height; perhaps she wasn't to become much taller. Men often shot to the sky during their teenage years, but women, were often already about the height there were supposed to be when they reached her age. Perhaps she'd grow an inch more, perhaps not. With or without the extra inch, Elissa was more than a head and a half shorter than himself, she just barely reached his shoulders, but yet again, he was a tall man. The girl was wearing thick tight leathers to shield her during her training, which made her still growing female figure stand out, almost as if her bosom and hips were trying to break out of their captivity. _Fuck it all_. He shouldn't even notice such things about this girl, no matter Maric's insistence of a proposal. She's too young for a marriage, _for him_.

Maric wasn't going to marry her himself, Loghain new that very well. Maric had said it as a meaningless threat, trying to tease his friend – but Loghain knew as well as Maric, that he needed someone, except the Seneschal, to govern the Teyrnir.

Celia, _Maker bless her heart and curse him all the same_ , had been the one who governed the Teyrnir in Loghain's absence. He had left her for Denerim, to be with the King after Queen Rowan's death, or at least that's what he'd told Celia – that he King needed him. Never mind that Celia might have needed him, of course she didn't. She had closed off herself to him. His clumsy and too emotionally distant efforts to love her. Perhaps he did love her, once, before everything turned into ruin and dust. Before their emotions were reduced to gravel and he left – as a coward, as the coward he still was.

When they had returned to the castle in the light of the warm afternoon sun, the king followed Bryce into his study. The Cousland children had continued to the private quarters to clean themselves up and Loghain had retreated to his own quarters for the moment, possibly for a rest – or as Maric had expressed with rolling eyes – _His endless work_.

The King had insisted on talking with Bryce in private, whatever for, Bryce did not know. He suspected it was due to the continued negotiations of peace with Orlais. The Empress had visited a few years back and it had gone well. Noo legions of chevaliers had invaded Ferelden, _yet_. They had been able to draw up a few trading treaties, no matter how hard Maric's general and friend had protested and tried to staunch the progress. Maric seemed determined to build a solid relationship with Orlais but at the same time protect the sovereignty of Ferelden. Bryce agreed with Maric and had stood by him. Had both Teyrns of Ferelden disagreed with the King, the King had lost his power to negotiate, however Highever didn't have the massive amount of natural recourses as Gwaren and needed to rely more on financial trade to survive. The south provinces of which Loghain was Teyrn had immense resources and in so a stable wealth, but it was smaller and lesser populated and didn't contain as many influential nobles as Highever.

Maric took a seat in one of the armchairs close to the fire place in Bryce's study and he was soon handed a glass of whiskey as Bryce sat himself down across from the King.

"Your majesty", Bryce cleared his throat, looking up at Maric with questioning eyes. "What was it you wanted to speak to me about?" he couldn't help but to feel a small sense of worry, it was seldom the King asked to see anyone alone, at least without Loghain as a calculating hawk beside him.

"Ah yes, straight to business" The king shifted his position in the armchair and leaned back with one of his legs resting above his knee. His long blonde hair rested on one of his shoulders and he was clad in a royal red coat and black leather trousers with high equally black boots. "Your daughter, as I understand it, is reaching a marriageable age", the king thumbed his glass as his blue eyes concentrated on Bryce. Maric seldom looked stern, always a light-heartedness over his overall features. This time, however, a seriousness came over the king, which unsettled Bryce slightly – along with him bringing up his daughters marital status.

"She is, indeed", Bryce carefully answered, somewhat surprised from the king's ascertainment. Could he be thinking of breaking off the engagement between Anora and Cailan? Is that why Loghain isn't here? Surely everyone knew that Elissa would be a better match since she had royal Calenhad blood from Eleanor's side of the family, but Cailan's engagement to Anora had been decided long before Elissa was born.

"Have you thought of a suiting husband for her? I haven't heard of her being promised, as of yet. Perhaps you have some silent understanding of which I don't know?" The king continued.

"I've had thoughts, certainly" Bryce took a deep breath and sipped his whiskey, "She's somewhat difficult to match without her having to marry below her station"

"Indeed" the King nodded in agreement, "And since Cailan is already betrothed, a union I intend to keep, she has few options as Loghain only has one daughter and no sons"

"I've had thoughts regarding the Kendells' son – what's his name? Vaughan?" Bryce said, "Being the Arlessa of Denerim is, of course, below her station. It is a former Teyrnir and the most powerful Arling in Ferelden, besides the Court and the Teyrnirs"

"Yes", Maric smiled as if to himself, seemingly inspecting the amber-coloured liquid in his glass and swirling it around, "You haven't thought about looking elsewhere?"

"Abroad you mean?" Bryce raised his eyebrows slightly and their eyes met, "Of course, but if I'm to be honest, I'd rather she remained in Ferelden"

"Oh, of course, I'm not asking you to ship her off to Orlais or Antiva, Bryce" the king answered causally, "But, considering her station, being the second child of a Teyrn, she has no real chance of becoming Teyrna, which I believe we could both agree would suit her perfectly, if I may be so bold" The king paused for a few seconds, before continuing, "There is a suitable alliance that comes to mind, in which she needn't lower her station or leave the country, which would also be fruitful politically, for the both of us and others"

"Yes?" Bryce felt surprised, what could the King have thought of that he himself hadn't seen?

Then it hit him like a sledgehammer in his chest – _Loghain_ – of course. Elissa would become Teyrna of Gwaren and being as young as she was, she'd be able to secure more heirs for Loghain, his former marriage only producing one child. Maric was right in his assessment, it would indeed be a good match, politically. And it would provide Elissa with a security few could provide her with. However, Loghain was not a man he'd ever even had begun to consider as a husband for his daughter. Sure, Eleanor with her pragmatism had mentioned it, when word of Celia's passing reached Highever, but Bryce had merely shrugged it off. His age was not a problem, child brides were common among their sort. Indeed, Eleanor was a few years younger than himself and surely the age difference would only be troubling the first ten years, before she was a full grown woman. What bothered Bryce, was Loghain's reputation and the fact that he'd more or less abandoned his first wife. How could he possibly send his own daughter off to such a future? Also counting into Bryce's doubts about the match was the fact that the man was a ruthless murderer, executing the King's most difficult work. Loghain was nothing far from a headman in noble clothing, dressed up in his still very much lingering heroism from the Rebellion. Bryce himself had seen Loghain's work during the uprising. He had seen him handling the Orlesian prisoners. The torture and the hundreds of beheadings – first executed by Loghain himself and later from his command. Heads rolled at the flick of his hand. Now, he was known as an 'enforcer' – a hatchet man, the one who made all the difficult decisions the king himself didn't dare to even begin to touch.

Loghain was a violent man, bred from harsh Orlesian oppression into the Rebellion where all his anger was put into action. He was a necessity for Ferelden's sovereignty, but how would such a man even treat a woman? _Maker's breath_ , how would he treat Elissa? He had trained her in achery for several years and from what Bryce and Eleanor could see, he'd been nothing but kind to their daughter, patient and kind – and a bloody good teacher at that. But had that been his plan all along? Waiting for his abandoned wife to finally die, or had he killed her himself? To be able to claim Elissa when she came of age? _Maker's mercy_ , Bryce thought as the tried his best to swallow down the lump growing in his throat under the scrutiny of the king.

"Loghain Mac Tir", Maric breathed the name out from what seemed the bottom of his lungs and looked deep into Bryce's eyes. "And before you cut me off, Bryce" the king held up a hand in protest to Bryce's separated lips and uncomfortable position in the armchair. "I am aware of Loghain's reputation and his duties to the Crown. I am also aware of the hesitation you would feel at a suggestion such as this"

"Indeed", Bryce said with a slightly distressed voice, unable to keep his voice collected.

"However, the suggestion comes from me, not from Loghain himself. In fact, he did not agree with the arrangement when I suggested it to him" Maric laughed softly and seemed to float into his own thoughts for a few seconds. Bryce frowned as he looked at the king, sitting in front of him comfortably leaned back into the armchair. A softness came over Maric's features for a moment, his long spider-like fingers scratching his beard.

"Then why, your majesty, _are_ you suggesting it?" Bryce had to clear his throat once more.

"Because it's a perfect match, for _both_ of them", The King answered after a short silence. "Elissa is turning into a fierce woman and they seem to enjoy each other's company. The mere fact that they actually know one another could only be positive in such an arrangement. I am also aware that Eleanor isn't opposed to the idea, it's merely Loghain I need to convince. And you of course, my dear friend", the King sipped his whiskey with a slightly crooked grin, watching Bryce and looking quite proud with himself.

"What of Loghain's person, would he be a good husband to my daughter?" Bryce had no idea where to even being arguing that this was _not_ a good idea.

"Ah, yes. You are refereeing to his late wife and the general rumours considering his person and his duties? Of course you are", the King nodded in understanding, "It is true, he wasn't a good husband to Celia. I will not defend what cannot be defended. However, it's more complicated then the gossipmongers care to think. I will not go into it in details, but as King, you have my word. Loghain would never hurt her in a way that was within his own control. His marriage to Celia was unfortunate and it suffered due to consequences beyond our, _their_ , control. Given time, Loghain would be a good husband to Elissa"

"I suppose if anyone could make such a promise, you would be that person", Bryce answered with hesitation.

"Indeed, I've known the man for over 25 years and he is a good man. Though, few even take the time to see it and even fewer are allowed to from him himself", Maric bit his lip, taking a deep breath and looking slightly distant for a moment, then continued, "Even though he has not agreed to my matchmaking, I do know he has taken a liking to your daughter, as have I, and I believe they both could benefit from one another within such a union"

"Well, I will need to discuss this with my wife", Bryce looked into the sparkling fireplace, "It is, certainly something to consider" Bryce said. Of course he could see the king's point and it was a good one at that. But he still couldn't shake the feeling of it being wrong. That he would force Elissa into a miserable life with a much older and _violent_ man, in a region far from Highever.


	3. 2

_11th August, 9:24_

 _Highever Castle_

 _Damn Maric, damn him straight into the void_. She's 14 years old and Loghain himself 43, how could Maric even think to talk to Bryce Cousland about such a union without Loghain's permission? _Andraste's arse_ _, what was he thinking_? Loghain woke up that morning feeling even more like a lecherous old man than he'd done before, violently furious at his King, his _friend_ , for even bringing this whole thing up. It was Maric's conviction that Loghain needed a wife since Celia had passed away. Loghain had refused, and refused, _and refused_. But Maric was completely oblivious to the fact that Loghain didn't want a new wife and certainly _not_ a child bride. He could have ripped the blonde head off of the dolt of a king last night when he had arrogantly strolled into Loghain's quarters and declared himself matchmaker of the decade. Loghain had felt his eyes seething with anger, but he had been able to keep his body calm, seemingly relaxed in his armchair, though his fists had involuntarily clenched themselves together, turning his knuckles white. He had wanted to scream at Maric, punch him in his insufferable and dumb gob. But Highever castle was filled with nobles and Maric was the king. They could rave at each other all they wanted in the private quarters of the Denerim palace, but not here. Maric was his friend, so the king was much more lenient of Loghain's reactions to his decisions than anyone else. Loghain couldn't however make a scene. Not here.

 _Maker's balls_. _Damn Maric, damn him_!

Now Loghain would have the displeasure of speaking to Bryce and Eleanor about this. He'd have to act as gracefully as he could and do as his bloody _king_ ordered him, as he'd done countless times before. _But those times it did not concern his personal life._ Whom he would marry and possibly live the rest of his life with _. Oh, please Celia, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me. Please come back._

.

Tomorrow was All Soul's Day and there would be celebrations, how very uncanny of Maric to present a betrothal during those festivities. How gruesome to destroy a festive time for such a young girl, seemingly forcing her into a marriage with a man who could have been her own father. Loghain would destroy her life. He would destroy her before she'd even had a chance at become the fierce beautiful woman she was supposed to become. She was already both beautiful and fierce and given time, she'd grow up to be a woman he was certain few men would be able to handle. Of course he'd noticed her unfolding body, her seemingly soft skin and perky bosom. Of course he would notice, all men does. _All lecherous old men_.

The young daughter of Bann Loren of Oswin, she was the same age as Elissa and probably also a friend of hers, had been betrothed one year ago to Bann Renhold of Gherlen's Pass. Bann Renhold was 10 years older than Loghain himself and he could remember wincing when he heard about it. The Bann was evidently a kind man and had served in the Rebellion, honourably indeed. He wasn't a sight for sore eyes, however. He was balding and had not left his estate in Denerim for the last 20 years because he felt it too exhausting traveling to the capital once every year for the Landsmeet, growing fat and abundant, leaving his oldest son to care for his Bannorn. Even Loghain could see that Bann Renhold wasn't a prize when it came to marriage and the thought of a young girl marrying a man like that, made him feel slightly nauseous.

 _Damn you, Maric_.

"My King, Loghain, please come in", Bryce welcomed them into his study where he and Eleanor sat waiting.

The forenoon sun was shining outside and the light slipped in through the coloured windows all over the castle. Loghain had broken his fast in private with Maric as company, since he refused to join the rest of the nobles and the family down stairs after Maric's idiocy yesterday. They had eaten in silence, or well, Loghain had been silent even if Maric had chatted on as usual, unforgivingly oblivious to his own mess and the uncomfortable embarrassment Loghain felt about the entire thing. Maric had spent the whole evening yesterday convincing Loghain why he should marry the Cousland girl, and of course, he had a point. Maric almost always had a point, even though his way of getting to the desired point was many times more than a little awkward and infuriating. She would probably make a lovely Teyrna and a gorgeous wife – for someone, anyone else but Loghain. What Loghain still couldn't wrap his head around was why Maric was so dead set on him marrying again. He himself was still unwed after Rowan. When Loghain had asked him this, Maric had merely shrugged it off and continued his unreasonable nagging until he threatened to use a royal decree, as a joke of course. A joke Loghain couldn't even begin to try and smile at. It was so far from funny his permanent scowl only seemed to etch itself further on his face.

After several hours of insufferable reasoning and arguing, Loghain had agreed. He was still very hesitant and very much angered, but he had agreed to Maric's horrible reasoning - because he had a point. And, as Maric said, they seemed to enjoy each other's company, which were true. He did enjoy her company, thiugh he was hesitant to allow for her to throw her life away with an old man like himself.

"Thank you Bryce" the king smiled cheerily towards Bryce and Eleanor. Loghain kept to simply nodding and trying to supress the awkward feeling that drowned him completely at this point. He never blushed, instead the redness coating his face was due to a heavily supressed anger, his control constantly on the verge of breaking from only looking at the king and still he couldn't stop staring daggers at the bastard. "Have you been able to reach a decision as to what we discussed last night?" the king said as he sat himself down in the sofa directly across from where Eleanor was sitting. Loghain remained standing with his arms crossed over his chest and looked sternly at Maric. _Damn you Maric_.

"Yes, I believe we have", Eleanor smiled and turned her gaze to Loghain, who could feel it, but didn't return the gaze. His eyes still intently staring at Maric's dumb blonde hair. "Elissa will be married to Loghain Mac Tir, we'll announce it at tonight's feast". Loghain froze, he wasn't even sure he could even breath for what felt like several minutes and he didn't move a muscle, but simply stood there, his arms across his chest and feet securely on the stone floor. It felt like ice coated him at the same time as fire consumed him with rage from the inside. Had he not been able to control his body through simply clenching his fists, he would have begun shaking like a little boy in anger. Instead, he was far too much of a grown man having seen too much in his life to allow his body to gain control over his mind in pressured situations.

"The wedding will be held in two years time, since it is custom to let her grow fully into her womanhood before the actual consummation. Three years after her first blood would seem enough" Bryce said, his face pale and hard like marble and his voice sounding more than a little strained.

"Lovely!" King Maric cheered from the sofa, clapping his hands together, "I knew it would be a simply marvellous idea"

"Very much so", Eleanor nodded smilingly from her armchair, "I couldn't possibly think of a more proper match, don't you think, Bryce?"

"Indeed" Bryce hissed through clenched jaws. Bryce and Loghain alike seemed as unpleased about the forthcoming union.

"Congratulations, my friend" Maric said and reached over to pad Loghain's arm, "Bring us some wine, we must celebrate!"

"Has Elissa agreed to this?" Loghain ignored Maric and instead looked up and met Bryce's eyes. Bryce almost seemed to recoil at Loghain's darkened gaze.

"She has, indeed", Bryce answered carefully, "She seemed content and even pleased at our decision"

"I believe she noted that she was very happy about us not putting her through an ordeal similar to the one poor Estri, Bann Loren's daughter, is being subjected to", Eleanor said with what sounded like relief and looked at Loghain.

"Isn't she?" Loghain almost hissed with his teeth clenched, his fists clenching so hard he could feel his hands falling asleep.

"Now, now, friend", Maric gestured for Loghain to calm down.

"Absolutely not!" Eleanor continued, holding one of her hands up, "She specifically said just that herself, that she was indeed pleased with our choice, no matter the difference in age. Naturally, she expressed some nervousness, but you'll have two years of working through that and since you've already spent a great deal of time together, I believe it to be nothing but the jitters of a young woman"

Loghain answered only with a sardonic grunt.

"You know my daughter, Loghain", Eleanor looked straight at him, "She's a fierce girl and she speaks her mind. Had this been something she disagreed with, she would have said so herself. Instead, she has agreed and also seemed more than content with the situation"

"Yes! So, now, let's spend the day celebrating we'll soon have Calenhad's royal blood in both our Teyrnirs" Maric happily burst out and rose from his place on the sofa. Bryce and Loghain eyed each other and when Bryce nodded, Loghain felt he needed to answer the small invite to some kind of understanding, and so he nodded back.

 _I'm sorry Celia, and truly, I'm sorry Elissa_.

Yesterday evening had been somewhat of a surprise for Elissa, to say the least. She had known she'd have to get married sooner rather than later, mainly due to the fact that she is nobility, a Teyrns daughter, no less. However, she didn't except it to be so soon, nor did she except it to be with Loghain Mac Tir. _Loghain Mac Tir, the Hero of River Dane_. A national hero she had grown up around and whom her parents and the king had told her countless stories about, stories who seemed like fairy tales and romanticized lies.

Her heart hadn't sank when her parents came to tell her, instead, it had started to beat harder, she had wanted to be married to Loghain as a small child, she had dreamt of it and him for years. Now, she'd thought of it more as some young girl's hero-worship, but then she realized just how handsome he was. The way his body moved during their training, how _large_ he was. To Elissa, it had been more of a fantasy; something tickling that aroused her, made her body respond in ways that was still very new to her. The same way the thought of the ever so handsome prince Cailan could make it tingle inside her, almost like a slow and pleasant burn in her most private parts in the best of ways.

She'd thought it most likely her parents would marry her off to one of Arl Howe's sons or Arl Kendells' son Vaughan, never to Loghain Mac Tir. Of course, it was something political she didn't yet know or understand fully, but she had felt content with it nevertheless.

 _'It's a very good match, Rhiannon'_ , her mother had said. ' _Fergus will be Teyrn of Highever and you'll be Teyrna of Gwaren'_. Her father had scoffed, but tried to smile, he was obviously not as content with the whole thing as her mother. Eleanor, on the other hand seemed very happy by the King's suggestion. ' _And you two already like each other, I can't imagine anything better, to be honest. Calenhad blood in both Teyrnirs and on the throne, it means a united Ferelden, once and for all'_.

Elissa _was_ happy, as a matter of fact. But she also felt immensely nervous about Loghain. He was a hard man to talk to. He had never really joked with her, just smiled a few times while they sparred. She could count the times he had really smiled to her during the many years she'd known him, on one of her hands. But she also knew he was a good man, even though most people failed to see it. She wasn't scared of him, as so many others were. He had been gentle with her, when she'd been hurt during their training sessions. Once she'd been so hurt she couldn't hold back her tears and he had carried her from Fort Drakon to the court healer in the Palace and wiped away her tears, letting her cry the pain away against his neck and his chest. She could still remember his smell, of burned tobacco, raw grass, cloves and sweat. He had stayed with her until she had stopped crying and the healer had mended her wounds, the broken ribs. He'd stroked her hair in silence while the healer worked, keeping his gaze on her, not letting her go. He would be a good husband, as long as he was given time to be, given the actual chance to be, she was sure of it.

Elissa was later in the afternoon dressed in a dark blue linen dress, reaching down to her ankles and ending halfway down her lower arms. It was one of those typical Fereldan dresses. Simple, comfortable and modest. Orlesian dresses showed more cleavage, but the Fereldan style was rounded over the shoulders, showing off the collarbones and the neck. Since it was still very warm outside, she still didn't need tall socks up to her thighs or a pelt around her shoulders and she could have small and light felt shoes with a leather sole. Under her dress she only wore a light shift, for modesty. A servant, Castiel, helped her lace up her dress in her midsection, making her hips stand out and her waist thin. Since it was a feast, she was also given a belt that was suppose to hang just lightly on her hips, containing a small knife. It was custom for every child to receive a ceremonial knife on their 12th birthday, no matter their sex. Her knife was beautiful and she was immensely proud of it since it had belonged to her namesake, Haelia Cousland, who drove out the Werewolves from the Highlands several hundred years ago.

Another servant entered the room with some cider and bread for Elissa, while her hair was oiled. The oil had a strong scent of citrus and antivan spices and it made her curls fall gently down her shoulders as Castiel braided several small Orlesian braids on her sides, creating little patterns in her hair with the braids. She had never understood why it was called 'Orlesian braids' since they came from a long Fereldan tradition, dating back thousands of years. Fereldan women of age are to braid their hair. If they're unwed, they always braid it in a way that leave a majority of the hair loose and if they're wed, they braid it in a way that holds a majority of the hair up. And if they were old, they no longer wore braids, only a kerchief, like Nan.

"Now, my lady, you look very beautiful" Castiel said, she was Elissa's elven lady-in-waiting who'd been with her since she came of age and she no longer was in need of Nan. Now Nan was in charge of the castle kitchens.

"Thank you, Castiel" Elissa smiled as she looked at her reflection in the vanity-mirror in front of her.

Suddenly, there was a knock on Elissa's door and another elven servant with a very nervous look on her face stuck her head in and asked if Elissa was descent. Castiel nodded and they were informed of a visitor for her.

"Very well", Elissa answered and sat down on the padded bench just below her window. As her visitor walked in, Elissa's eyes widened and she smiled, trying as best as she could to hide her nervousness, "Teyrn Mac Tir"

"Lady Cousland", he answered without a bow or nod of greeting and stopped in the doorframe. He didn't smile or really move one muscle in his face, looking strained and emotionless. As the servants slipped out behind him, Elissa once again noticed his height. He towered over Castiel as she snuck out. His long raven hair rested over his shoulders, pouring itself down over his back and chest and he had two long braids, hanging down on either side of his face. He wore a thin linen shirt under a black summer coat, black leather trousers and high boots that looked too warm in the summer heat. As usual he was always, _always_ armed, with a dagger tucked down his right boot and a ceremonial knife hanging from his waist belt. He did have a rather intimidating look about him. Fortunately Elissa had gotten to know him when she was too young to even notice what's supposed to be intimidating or not. Still, she could see it easier now, with his pale complexion and light eyes, piercing her as he waited for the servants to leave.

"Please, come in" she said, sitting with her back straight and her hands resting in her lap. He sat down in one of her armchairs, a comfortable distance from her and leaned his elbows against his knees, looking at her as if scrutinizing her. The he took a deep breath, raking one hand over his face.

"Lady Cousl-", he interrupted himself with a breathless sigh, "Elissa. I felt we should talk, considering… Our impending situation"

"Yes", Rhiannon answered, following his eyes with hers. He looked stern and she quickly adopted a similar look herself, her eyebrows knitting together in concentration.

"I don't want you to feel forced into this", he said looking up at her from under his brow, "By myself, the King or… Your parents" Loghain sighed and rubbed his temples, he felt exhausted already.

"Likewise", she answered and immediately caught Loghain's attention, "As I understand it, this was not your own idea, but that of the King"

"Mm", he grunted, looking away from her.

"It's good match", she said and Loghain narrowed his eyes, watching her silently, "As a Teyrns daughter, I could hardly ask for better"

"That's not a good enough reason to throw your life away before you're even an adult" Loghain retorted.

"Throw my life away?" her eyes widened and he could see her hands writhing, almost nervously in her lap, "What options do you reckon I have? I have no options of love or infatuations and you know this as well as I do. In all honesty, I'd rather be sold to you than to some disgusting old boor like Bann Renhold", Elissa's voice kept a low tone, spoken through low hisses like that of a careful yet still cornered cat.

"I do not wish for you to feel as if you've been bought", Loghain frowned, his eyes hard and his jaws clenched.

"No, of course you don't, but let's face it", she held her hands up, "This is how it works. I have accepted, gladly, but if you do not wish to wed me, there's no reason for us to even-"

"-I have accepted and proffered", he interrupted her, trying to calm the storm brewing in her eyes, "And as you well know, I appreciate your company and your person", Loghain tried as best as he could not to sound too harsh, avoid upsetting her further. She was still so very young and sensitive, in every way still only a child and the thought made him cringe. Still, he had started to care for her, especially since that time in Fort Drakon when he pushed her too hard, resulting in broken ribs. His chest ached for her that afternoon when he watched the court mage heal her. But then he had looked at her as a daughter, like he would look at Anora when she'd hurt herself as a child. Elissa was usually a very contained girl when it came to enduring pain, but he had pushed her over the edge that time. "I simply need to make sure this is something _you_ want"

"It is", she said, sternly. She almost looked like a full-grown woman when she said that, frowning and looking straight at him. She certainly had a strong-willed look about her; he couldn't deny that. It was very similar to the one Anora had. His daughter had always been stubborn and once she set her mind to something, she was nearly impossible to dissuade.

"Very well. If you are to be my wife, you'll have to improve your sword skills", Loghain tried his best to smile a little, but it only make him feel like a shark forcing the corners of his lips upwards and so he surrendered before he'd even begun.

"The day after tomorrow then, perhaps?" She smiled softly, her eyes searching as she looked at him.

"Mm", he nodded, "Tomorrow"

Loghain had escorted Elissa to the great hall. He towered behind her like a wry dark shadow and Eleanor immediately caught her daughter's eyes, nodding with a smile towards her. It's a fine thing Loghain looks at least ten years below his age, Eleanor thought, they already make a beautiful couple. Perhaps the secret to looking forever young was never smiling.

Eleanor couldn't help but to feel a little sense of pride in her stomach. Bryce had fought with her about her determination after he had spoken with the king but Eleanor wouldn't budge. Of course she'd heard all the rumours about Loghain and even the more vulgar ones about Loghain, the King and the late Queen, but she knew them all since the Rebellion. She had fought in a unit led by Loghain and Rowan at one point and she had seen the same qualities in the then very young raven haired man, as in her own father – Elissa's grandfather, Bann Fearchar Mac Eanraig. Eleanor was the daughter of a Storm Coast raider, who due to their Dryden-blood had fallen on ill will with the Crown since the Grey Warden-Dryden-uprising 200 years ago. Her family had fallen from high nobility and through marriage risen again to gain a Bannorn on the Storm Coast. Bryce on the other hand, came from a long line of high nobility, the Cousland had since Calenhad been a respected family with close ties to the Crown, however not by blood. Through her Dryden-blood, Eleanor had royal blood and her children, with the Cousland name backing them up and releasing them from the blackened Dryden-name, had as much a claim on the royal throne as Maric's son, prince Cailan. In fact, Fergus and Elissa were third and fourth in line for the throne, at least until Cailan was married to Anora. Anora, the daughter of Loghain Mac Tir.  
The marriage between Rhiannon and Loghain couldn't be more perfect, Eleanor thought to her self. It bound the two Teyrnirs together by family ties. It also further bound both the Cousland's and the Mac Tir's to the Royal Crown. Her father would have been proud, so sod her stubborn husband and his ridiculous suspicion against Loghain Mac Tir. Elissa was fierce and with a husband like Loghain, who Eleanor knew to be more progressive than he'd like to admit, behind her – nothing would be able to stop Elissa in whatever she wanted to do with her life.

"Are you happy now, my dear?" Bryce came up to Eleanor and she could feel the heat from her husband against her shoulder, his voice lacked the utter dislike he had held the entire day, moping around the castle and avoiding Loghain and the king alike, but he still retained an acidic tone to him, making Eleanor roll her eyes.

"Very much so, they make a beautiful couple, wouldn't you say?" Eleanor said and reached for her husband's hand, clasping if softly.

"Don't be absurd" Bryce retorted stiffly, "If he hurts her, I'll have him stand trial in front of the Landsmeet"

"I doubt he will mistreat a Teyrns daughter, considering it would run the risk of starting a civil war", Eleanor chuckled to herself at her husband's ridiculousness. "He's far too calculating and intelligent, and you know that. Besides, I doubt _you_ would want to fight a civil war against Ferelden's greatest military strategist"

"You had to marry our daughter off to a man I cannot touch", Bryce narrowed his eyes, speaking silently, " _Thank you_ , my dear". His voice was dripping with sarcasm and he swallowed the last of the wine he had in his cup. Eleanor could almost taste the bitterness just by standing there beside him.

During the evening, King Maric announced Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir's engagement to Lady Elissa Cousland and it became quite the stir. Loghain spent most of the evening groaning quietly to himself and wanting to be somewhere else, however, he did enjoy the company of his newly announced fiancée who herself seemed about as amused by the festivities as he was. She seemed to seek him out in the great hall, mostly for company, to have someone to stand with, not needing to engage in small talk. They both received many congratulations and greetings, though Loghain seemed to receive more disapproving glares from noble women who's relatives had sent marriage proposals to him after Celia's death and jealous stares from young and old men. As he glanced at Elissa, he could understand the jealousy. She was beautiful, even more so considering her servants had made her look older than she was, through clothes and make up.

"Don't you have some friends to talk to, instead of standing here being bored at my side?" Loghain asked Elissa in a tone that probably sounded harsher than he intended, as she stood next to him, sipping sweet and spiced wine. He wasn't really a man for small talk or noble conversation.

"Do you wish me to leave you alone, my Lord?" She mumbled quietly.

"You don't have to keep me company" Loghain muttered.

"I'm not keeping _you_ company", she cast him a side wide glance from behind her cup of wine. "I'm keeping myself out of company", her face had the same stubbornness now as when she was a child, determined she'd marry _him_ of all people. She had been correct about that. He'd almost forgotten all about it and he mused quietly at the irony of that memory and the still persisting stubbornness in her eyes. Elissa and looked at him, her expression turning surprised. "Why are you smirking?"

"Hm?" he frowned, looking back at her with questioning eyes and he noticed the corners of his mouth turning back down, suppressing the small smile he hadn't even noticed coming over him.

"Bastard", she said under her breath and walked away.

 _Tactless bastard_ , Elissa thought to herself with annoyance as she walked out in the garden. Hopefully it was somewhat free from uncivilized nobles, men and women alike. If Loghain refused to harbour her, she could move elsewhere, as long as she didn't have to stand the stuck up taunts from Delilah Howe, Habren Bryland and Izot Wulff. And she couldn't find Hilda anywhere. Where could she be? Hilda O'Flandern was the daughter of the Bann of the Southern Bannorn and had been a close friend of Elissa since they were tiny girls running amok in the back gardens of Denerim with Thomas Howe and Estri Eremin, all three of them were the same age. Elissa, Hilda and Estri had been especially close. As they grew older, Thomas Howe was more drawn to Kiert Mac Dwyn, the son of the Arl of Alamar who was also born the same year as them. Delilah, Habren and Izot were all one or two years older and had started to feel much superior to Elissa, Estri and Hilda two years ago mainly due to the benefit of age. They had decided they no longer could play with 'ridiculous children' as Delilah had put it. Since then they had taken every possible opportunity to tease and taunt Estri, Elissa and Hilda. Elissa in particular. Once Delilah and Izot had lured Elissa by herself out to the stables and pushed her into a manure heap and called her 'lady stinky' for a whole year. They seemed to recently have forgotten about that particular episode, however, Elissa couldn't rid herself of the feeling they were up to something new.

The garden seemed to be free from mean older girls and she soon spotted Fergus with Nathaniel Howe and prince Cailan in a secluded area. She decided to see what they were up to. Since Fergus had left his teenage years, he had become kinder to his little sister and more protective than mean. They seemed to be drinking wine and discussing weapons and historical battles, which was right up Elissa's alley.

"Sister, there you are! Congratulations are in order, the new Teyrna of Gwaren!" Fergus cheered ironically and winked at Elissa.

"Stop it, Fergus!" she hissed as she sat down in the grass and reached for one of the opened wine bottles in the middle of the small group.

"Well, I guess they couldn't have made a more perfect match politically" Nathaniel said, looking at Elissa and then at Fergus.

"I haven't seen mother this pleased with herself in _years_ " Fergus chuckled.

"Ah, but I feel sorry for you Elissa", Cailan drawled, his eyes glazed over. He was obviously intoxicated, "I do like Anora, but Loghain, Andraste's arse, I don't think that man has smiled once during my entire life" Cailan said and pushed a wine bottle against his perky lips. Cailan looked more or less exactly like his father, with clear blue eyes and shoulder length blonde hair, but without a beard, though. He had grown tall in his late teenage years and was slightly taller than Fergus. Elissa had always thought Cailan very handsome and she had had a crush on him for some time. But as he was to marry Anora and she herself now Loghain, she needed to push those thoughts away. She couldn't help but to rest her eyes on him, nevertheless. Fergus had shaggy brown red hair with curls that framed his face in a fine way and large green eyes. Fergus had his hair from their father and his eyes and facial features from their mother. Elissa had her hair from their mother and the same high cheekbones as Fergus and their mother, but another kind of roundness to her face that Fergus and Eleanor lacked, which came from Bryce. But both Fergus and Elissa had the same full and perky lips from their father. Eleanor had always commented that she was so happy they'd inherited their father's gorgeous lips. Both Fergus and Elissa used to giggle franticly until they blushed when she went on about how kissable they were.

"Not once?" Nathaniel laughed, "He can't be that bad can he?"

"He's _worse_ " Cailan snorted, "You've trained with him loads of times Elissa, you know what I mean"

"That he's a good trainer?" Elissa blushed but tried to answer neutrally, ignoring her heating cheeks.

"Of course he's a good trainer when it comes to everything having to do combat training and sword wielding" Fergus interrupted, "He's the sodding Hero of River Dane"

"I can't believe you're marrying the Hero of River Dane", Nathaniel's eyes grew wide as he said it, as if he hadn't realized it until now.

"Hear, hear" Cailan said sarcastically and raised his bottle and threw a, perhaps too long, glance to Elissa, which made her stomach tingle unintentionally, "May you be blessed with patience and a liking for wry old men"


	4. 3

_All Soul's Day, 12_ _th_ _August, 9:24_

 _Highever Castle_

Elissa watched as the first pyre outside Highever castle caught flame and within seconds the whole pile of large logs had intense flames dancing like ecstatic fire-druids all around them. From the long road leading from the castle down to the village, pyre after pyre was lit one after the other in the soft evening darkness. All around the pyres you could see Chantry sisters waving incense while chanting in old Fereldan, moving simultaneously like a slow dance. All Soul's Day, a day when the dead visited the living's word and they all feasted together.

The day had started with an early breakfast in the great hall just after sunrise, everyone gathering together even the servant's ate with them as equals. It was sign of their equality in the eyes of the Maker and in everyone's joint mourning of the death of the Maker's bride, Andraste. The breakfast served on All Soul's Day were a simple breakfast of porridge, ale, vegetable broth and dark wheat bread. You were not allowed to eat meat until after sundown as a sign of devotion to the Maker. During the day you were to mourn and cleanse yourself of all that's foul and sinful – an apparently that included meat.

After breakfast, Elissa joined her mother in the Castle Chantry for prayer during the morning's first hours, lighting candles for their forefathers and recently dead relatives and friends. Eleanor always had many candles to light, having lost her entire family before marrying Bryce and later, many friends during the Rebellion. Mother Mallol, the Chantry Mother was in a deep meditative state fasting completely during the entire week leading up to All Soul's Day, until it was time to light the pyres in the evening. All over the Chantry, incense was burning in small silver cups hanging from the stonewalls and the only light in the darkened Chantry came from the many small candles burning around the great altar, symbolising prayers and dead loved ones. There were always at least four Chantry sisters with Mother Mallol in the Chantry, constantly reciting the Chant of Light during the entirety of the day, every day and all year round. The Chantry had a certain feeling every All Soul's Day. It was mystical and very soothing, Elissa had always felt like this was the day she was closest to Andraste, the beloved prophet. It was as if Andraste touched her through the darkness and told her about the pain she would come to know, about the suffering – she had told her this since she was a child, but Andraste always told her she would be protected. Elissa knew she would always be safe in the light of the Maker.

Loghain stepped into the Castle Chantry in Highever, he wasn't a particularly religious man, but old habits die hard, as they say. All Soul's Day had been a day he feared every year, since he was 15 years old. It was the day he always remembered his mother and what had happened to her. With time, he had learned to handle the ache in his chest, push it away deep within him and just barely acknowledge it at all. He tried to only remember his mother for who she was _before_. Her raven dark hair, braided causally into a bun in the back of her neck, her frail, too skinny, but still soft embrace and her calloused hands from working day in and day out on the fields. His father had always said Loghain was a picture of his mother, with his straight dark hair and icy blue eyes. As a teenager he had been tall but slim, just like his mother – his broad shoulders and muscles came later, in his twenties when he was forced to switch from archery to wielding swords, due to his own battle strategies during the Rebellion.

He tries to remember his mother, on her knees in the fields with her hair loosely gathered in that braided bun, her body covered in a thick woven cape, snatching up crops and putting them in one of the large baskets she brought with her out on the fields. Her raven hair flicker in the northern winds drawing down from the mountains over Lake Calenhad. His thoughts then move to Celia, _beautiful Celia_. She wasn't meant for this world, or at least not this world with him as her husband. He couldn't help but to make her miserable even though he tried to make her as happy as he possibly could. The fault was his, not hers and nothing he ever could try, was enough. His love lay elsewhere during a majority of their marriage and he was a fool thinking it wouldn't become obvious. The beginning had been kind to them, but those few short years of happiness and marital bliss ended with _Rita_. Rita, that precious little bundle of flesh and bone who took a half day's worth of breaths before she returned to the Maker and left Loghain and Celia in a burned out marriage, unable to love each other, unable to touch one another with little Anora, caught in between. Caught between Celia's melancholy and his own extramarital affairs.  
Celia had almost died giving birth to Rita, for Maker's sake – and still, he couldn't ever be the husband she deserved. He was to haunted from the war, from everything he'd seen along with the love he'd experienced in the middle of that retched chaos.

His clearest and most happy memory of his late wife is from a warm summer's day in their garden in Gwaren. Celia loved her garden and the roses. She could spend hours upon hours in that garden tending to the flowers, always dressed in a sloping hat covering her fair complexion. Anora had inherited her light soft hair and her large blue eyes. She was very much Celia in so many ways, but she was distant just like her father. Distant and unwilling to speak about those things that ache. Celia had hated that about him. She tried for years to make him talk to her, express his emotions. Instead, he found comfort in the bosom of his best friends wife and it was only when she vanished from this world, that he realized the pain he'd put Celia in. That, along with what had happened to his mother all those years ago, what _they_ had done, had him locking his emotions up inside him and it seemed nothing could release him from that burden. His bad conscience haunting him for the rest of his time, never keeping him loyal enough to the one person he should have been completely loyal to. Instead, he became too loyal towards Maric, bound himself to him in a way that Loghain knew was far from healthy. Then the plague took Celia and before he was able to blink, she was gone. He'd never spoken to anyone about Rita, not even Maric. Rowan had just died and so he abandoned Celia under the pretense of comforting and supporting his friend. Instead he spent endless nights beside Maric, both of them drunken, crying and spewing. Crying for a woman they had both loved in their own way, all the while his wife withered away, alone in Gwaren.

Now, it seemed the Maker had forced a second chance up on him, for whatever reason that would be a healthy thing for anyone involved. The Maker or Maric, it was all the same, really. _Damn them both_. Loghain couldn't possibly think of how he could fail this new wife of his in such a spectacular way as he'd failed Celia, but he prayed anyway, asking the Maker for clarity, asking Celia and Rita for forgiveness, his mother for peace of mind and his father for strength to endure.

As he sat a few rows back in the Chantry, he watched Elissa's deep brown curls fall over her neck and shoulder blades. She was deep in prayer, breathing rhythmically, chanting. For what, he couldn't know. As to why, he had no idea. He'd never pictured her as a devout Andrastian, but as Eleanor lighted candles, she was perfectly still, apart from her shoulders rising and falling, following her breathing. After what seemed like an hour, Loghain almost slumbered in the wooden pew, having become completely entranced and tried out by his own thoughts and prayers, he noticed her rising and doing the sign of the Maker, before bowing to the altar. She walked up to the massive statue of Andraste with her flaming sword and kissed the prophets feet. Eleanor rose as well and repeated the same little ritual as Elissa before they both turned to walk out of the dim Chantry and Elissa's eyes met his. His sight was blurred. Perhaps it was the incense filling the room, maybe his lack of sleep, or perhaps both. Elissa nodded to her mother before she took a seat next to him. Why did she do that? Why had he stayed in here when he wasn't alone with only the stone-faced meditating Mother?

Elissa's face was unchanged. She didn't smile and she didn't say anything but merely sat down beside him in the Chantry bench and looked straight ahead at the altar. He could feel the heat from her small body, warming his own cold, cold heart. It was almost as if she was steaming in her thin linen dress, a light beige linen dress with silver details and a Cousland signet brooch to the left of her upper chest. Her ceremonial knife rested in her lap, hanging from the same dark leather and silver belt as she'd worn yesterday. He could feel the scent of citrus and spices coming from her. It was strange, surreal, even, just sitting there and realizing this small girl, so frail and unbeknownst to the world and its cruelty, was to be his. His. And all he could think of were citrus and spices.

It was as if she wore a field of energy around her and when she gently laid her hand over his, Loghain couldn't even begin to pull his hand back. He didn't want to, but at the same time he knew he couldn't – her energy had locked him into her grasp and he felt almost like a magical sensation light lightning through his body, it's epicentre in his hand. He felt such ease, such contentment, a satisfaction he's not sure he's ever experienced. He shut his eyes and let go, let go of his grieve for just this short moment and let himself sail away with only his empty and drained thoughts as company and the feeling of her soft palm against his hand.

After spending the forenoon in the Castle Chantry, Elissa had a quiet lunch with Loghain as company. You could take your lunch whenever you felt like it during the day, since it mainly consisted of vegetable broth and more dark hearty bread. They swallowed the filling bred down with light breakfast ale containing only a small amount of alcohol and ate in complete silence. After some time Eleanor came to join them, but didn't speak either, the day was a day of silence and contemplation up until the evening.

The great hall was amazingly quiet, only the whispering noise of light footsteps filled up the background and small thuds as people got up out of chairs, softly pulling chairs out or in, spoons touching wooden bowls and the odd yawn or cough filling out the silence.

Elissa watched Loghain as he slurped the thin broth from a spoon and occasionally dipped the dark thick bread in the fluid. The broth had small pieces of potatoes, carrots, leeks and onions floating around in it, mixed with several different spices and little clots of oil floating in the edges of the bowl. Loghain ate with a steady rhythm, seldom lifting his eyes from the bowl. It was clear, Elissa thought, that the ease in which he transferred the soaked bread from the bowl to his mouth, was something he had practised for a long time, forcing himself to eat slowly and less hurried. To not treat the food as if it was the only meal he'd have for the entirety of the day. He was a farmer's son, suddenly finding himself in the company of the highest and wealthiest nobles without the life long practise of always having food. He'd have to learn not to seem starved, to not treat the food with desperation.

Between his dark eyebrows, he had a constant small creak that was always there. Elissa had noticed it before during sparring. It seemed to be a sign of thought, of stress and a constant vigilance to his surroundings. He had so much pressure bottled up inside him, tugging at his very existence from years and years of fighting wars. Never ending wars. _Maric's wars_. He had sacrificed more than one man ever should in the name of duty and it seemed to be the only thing keeping him going. Elissa had felt it when they sat in the Chantry. She had seen what grieved him, the pain that tore through him smouldering knives, leaving him a burned out shell of the man that should have been there instead. That man had never had the chance to even come to life, as his tragedies had started too early when he was too young. It was truly tragic, what she'd seen in him. She knew what he was, a man broken by a lifetime of fighting and struggling, persistence and violence. He hadn't been a good man, even though he had the possibility to be one. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what he'd done, but she knew his soul suffered. Still, she knew that they all had to live with their wounds, accepting them as they were. Hiding them, caring for them and supressing them as best they could. Loghain's wounds, where never ending, deep gashes slithering deeply into his very soul and aching, pulsating with his every being – no matter the control he thought he held over them.

As he watched the pyres burning with Elissa in the foreground, Loghain felt some kind of release. A release he hadn't felt for years reaching into the innermost parts of his being, releasing him from his controlled senses and letting him breath, if only for a moment or two. Breath clearly, despite all the incense floating around in the air, together with the smoke coming from the pyres. The sight of Elissa before him seemed to make sense, seemed to wake something within him that at least seemed real and somehow that made him content. There was something ancient about her, almost bewitching in a way he couldn't understand.

He didn't believe he'd been freed or forgiven from everything he'd done leading up to this point in his life. He'd never be freed from his miserable betrayal of Celia, his hurtful memory of his mother or his failings to handle his own emotions. But he thought of Anora, he hadn't failed her, not yet at least. And he would do everything in his power not to fail her; to make sure her life was better – better than the women who came before her. She was the most precious thing in his life and he'd make damn sure she was protected. Of course, she was very much capable of protecting herself by now. She'd become the picture of him in Celia's body, but nevertheless, he wouldn't abandon her again.

As for _this_ girl, his wife to be, she was equally as fierce as Anora, if not more. But her, he couldn't, _wouldn't_ abandon her either. Something had struck like lighting between them in the Chantry and he didn't know what it was. Her calmness and ease had spread through him like nothing he'd ever experienced before. She'd gotten under his skin in some way, leaving him almost breathless and with a strange feeling of content, even if only for a short while. Whatever she had done with him, or to him – it was something out of this world and he wasn't sure if he should fear it, or embrace it.

The shape of Elissa, with the fire dancing before her and the incense rising up from the swinging chalices, made him think of Haelia, of the Gods of Old. She reminded him of one of those chasind goddesses of fertility from the deep Korcari Wilds. Her rounded hips, thin waist and long flowing dark hair. Maric had told him when she was but a small child, he thought her very curious and special. Now she manifested that curiosity before Loghain. He couldn't pull his eyes from her in the fiery darkness. She looked older, more mature – as if somehow showing him what she would look like in a few years time. She was beyond beautiful, as if a witch when she stood there before him. She glanced back at him over her shoulder, her cheekbones even more pronounced and her eyes burning with a fire unknown to him. A young woman. He wanted to reach out to her, touch her, to see if she still hummed of magic. Was she a witch? An apostate her family had hidden from the Circle? No, not the Couslands. From what little Loghain knew, the Cousland's had no magic in their lineage. They were an ancient family dating back thousands of years, long before Andraste even and they seemed to be filled with extraordinary women. _But by the Maker, she was beautiful_.

As the last prayer had been sung by both the Chantry Sisters, the lay brothers and the rest of the village of Highever, it was time to break the day's fast and to celebrate Andraste's victory over death and over the Tevinter Imperium. In Highever and as in most of Ferelden, this was celebrated by gathering the whole village and all nobles, including the King inside the Castle walls. The nobles dined in the great hall, but outside the castle itself, the commoners and servants dined as well. It was one of the most magnificent feasts of the year and there were people everywhere, drinking and eating, talking and celebrating. The Fereldan bards played and sung and people danced all over the castle's open areas.

The castle garden had been beautifully decorated with small lights hanging from the trees and bushes and if you looked too close, you could she couples hiding in the bushes, sneaking kisses and, as it were, doing more.

Elissa was placed close to King Maric and Loghain during the dinner on the long table running from the Teyrns throne, down to the large metal doors leading out into the gardens. Beside her, on her left side Elissa had Bann Teagan Guerrin of Rainesfere, brother-in-law to the king and on her right side was Arlessa Eliane Bryland Howe, wife of her father's good friend Arl Rendon Howe of Amaranthine as well as Bann Alfstanna Eremon of Waking Sea. In front of her sat from right to left; Arl Urien Kendells of Denerim, Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir of Gwaren, King Maric Theirin and at the end of the table with their backs against the throne, her parents, Teyrn and Teyrna Cousland. Fergus sat further down the table and seemed to be in an intense discussion with Cailan about something, but she couldn't even try to hear what they were saying, considering the general volume in the great hall. Elissa peaked at Cailan every once in a while, as well as Loghain. They were _very_ different from one another. Cailan was gorgeous in a typical young and very obvious way, with his blonde hair and sharp features. Loghain was intimidating and his icy light blue eyes intense – his features were somewhat aged, but till highly attractive with his tall, lithe frame. Where Cailan was still an adolescence, Loghain was a man. He made no excuses for himself, seemingly took what he wanted without a thought and never gave as much as he was offered.

"Your majesty", Bann Teagan turned his eyes on the king, "You are traveling to the Free Marches in two months?"

"Yes, I'm making a diplomatic visit to Kirkwall and then continuing up to Starkhaven for a visit to the Vael-family" the King answered with a smirk as he lifted his goblet with wine.

"You have no trip intended for Orlais, your majesty?" Arlessa Eliane asked Maric.

"No, not as of yet. However, the peace talks with the Empress is progressing" Maric seemed to draw a heavy breath as he leaned back in his chair.

"I've heard rumours of chevaliers by the border, at Gherlen's Pass", Bann Alfstanna said, her eyes concerned as she looked up at the king, "Apparently Bann Renhold sent a messenger to Denerim. Teyrn Loghain, have you found anything that points to this being true?" her eyes looked piercing as they zoned in on Loghain.

"No", Loghain answered without looking up from his goblet of wine. "Both Bann Renhold and the royal army has soldiers stationed over the entire Pass"

"Are they enough to keep the Orlesians out, should the Empress decide to send in chevaliers?" Arl Kendells asked. "How are our defences looking? The Landsmeet will summon in four weeks, but I've heard rumours of stirrings in Orlais, both in Jader and Val Chevin"

"There's no need for worries, my friends" King Maric leaned in over the table and smiled forcibly towards Arl Kendells, "We need to discuss our protection on the coastlands, but there's no need for believing we've left the door open to Orlais"

"But aren't we in a vulnerable situation with you being out of the country and these rumours of chevaliers?"

"Surely the Orlesians have spies all over Ferelden?" Bann Teagan asked, seemingly carefully.

"And we have spies in Orlais, naturally" King Maric retorted, sending Bann Teagan a grin as he leaned back in his chair, balancing his goblet of wine in his hand.

"So there haven't been any sights of chevaliers trying to cross the boarders?" Arl Kendells continued, looking first at the King and then on Loghain.

"There's always people trying to cross the boarders for different reason's, but I suppose you still can't use Gherlen's Pass other than military purposes?" Bryce broke in before either Maric or Loghain had time to answer Arl Kendells.

"Not as the treaty stands, no" Loghain answered.

"But haven't there been talk of refugee's fleeing Orlesian suppression over the pass?" Bann Alfstanna looked worriedly at Loghain.

"There have been reports" Loghain cleared his throat and finished the last of his wine while looking less than amused.

"There have been reports? What do you mean by that?" Bann Alfstanna's eyes seemed to pierce Loghain even harder, but he didn't move a muscle in his wry stony face.

"The Pass is for military use only" Loghain retorted sharply and glanced at Bann Alfstanna. She was about to say something, obviously frustrated with the lack of actual information in Loghain's answers, but Bann Teagen interrupted her with a smile.

"It's possibly for the best, as it stand now at least" Teagan said trying to light up the tone of the entire discussion, chuckling nervously, knowing what the implications of Loghain's short answer were. There _had_ been refugees, but those refugees were no more.

"Perhaps" Bann Alfstanna answered, looking dissatisfied. She was a tall and handsome woman with a more manly look about her, "We need to discuss the army's ships however, as it stands now, only ten ships are making us vulnerable against Orlais. Half their bloody army is made out of ships"

"We have a strong army, Alfstanna", Loghain's voice sounded, almost piercing this time, as if he was beginning to grow even more tired of the conversation than he already was. "Should the Orlesian's try to invade, we'll kill them on Fereldan ground, again", Loghain's eyes stared at Alfstanna, making her flicker slightly.

"Well, friends, let's leave these discussions for the Landsmeet, shall we? To night is a time for celebrating!" Maric tried to smooth over the entire topic, raising his goblet again and gesturing for more wine.

After the dinner Elissa had become so bored with all the talk of politics, she felt like she needed a pause, or a release. She could keep up with the discussions for a time, but hour after hour was draining her, as was the feast itself. She had never been one for large events, sure she couldn't help liking to dress up and having her hair done in the most beautiful styles by Castiel, picking out dresses and having her eyes painted with coal. But after an entire day of things to do and no time for just laying in her own bed, thinking and perhaps reading a little, she felt exhausted. And drunk. She didn't quite know if it was the combination of both or just the alcohol that made her stumble a little whenever she tried to search her way through the dark castle. In the great hall, the nobles were still talking and drinking in their small groups – gossiping or whining about _chevaliers_ or _boats_ or sodding whatever it was they felt they needed to whine about. Earlier during the dinner, Loghain seemed to have almost cracked during a discussion of military ships that, even though Maric tried to change the subject, kept coming back to the ships. It seemed to be the only thing the mannish Bann Alfstanna could talk about and it seemed to infuriate Loghain beyond what Elissa ever could have imagined. He was Maric's general and commander of the royal army and national forces of Ferelden, after all. Perhaps he was under a lot of pressure. He had a whole Teyrnir and the Gwaren army, the royal army and held the utmost responsibility for the gathered forces of all the Arlings and Bannorns. Aside from that, he was rumoured to have a whole network of spies and assassins under him as well as the Fort Drakon Guards. How does he not completely implode? She thought to herself.

After swirling around the castle hallways for a while, she was able to locate the back gardens and the fresh night air seemed to cleanse her head a bit as she took a deep breath when strolling out between the shrubs. She was alone, at last. Finally she could be away from everyone and just spend the rest of the evening imagining Gwaren, how the castle looked and what she _actually_ was going to do.

 _Maker's breath, I'm going to be Teyrna of Gwaren_. The realisation hadn't sunken in yet. Elissa had been so unprepared that she hadn't really understood what it meant. Loghain Mac Tir. Gwaren. Sweet Andraste.

She's expected to run an entire Teyrnir by herself? Loghain spent most of his time in Denerim with the King and that wouldn't change, of course. That's what he'd done when he was married to Celia, Elissa had heard the gossip about their unhappy marriage and him leaving and not returning for years on years. Would he do that again? He seemed to be warming up to her a little bit. Earlier during the day, they had sat in the Chantry together and he had looked utterly miserable and so she sat down beside him. It was simply a feeling she had gotten; that she needed to sit down beside him and take his hand and that would help him, perhaps just a little. A little is more than nothing.

Elissa suddenly felt foolish for believing that Loghain would be any different with her. Why would he look at her differently from Celia? She had never met Celia, but everyone told her Anora looked very much like her and Anora was _so beautiful_. Elissa looked like something of a plough-horse in comparison. A young plough-horse, perhaps, but still. Anora was tall and slim with fair blonde hair. She looked so delicate with her light skin that looked like porcelain. In comparison, Rhiannon felt like a short, broad _ogre_.

 _Oh, sodding shit_.

 _"_ _She's only a breeding-machine, a prize because of her heritage. How could a man ever want something that stinks like her?"_

Habren and Izot were right, weren't they? She had heard them whisper behind her back earlier during the day. About Loghain only marrying her because she's a _Cousland_. Nan had said at some point, she had 'good hips for giving birth to tons of children'. Elissa had winced at the comment and spent an entire afternoon staring at her hips and bottom in the unclear mirror. Perhaps if she had wished real hard, they would shrink? Just a little bit? Instead they only seemed to grow along with her bosom.

The garden didn't feel that peaceful anymore. She had lost herself in her thoughts and in the mean words from Habren and Izot. _Damn them_ , why couldn't they just leave her alone? She had been nothing but kind to them, no matter how they treated her. Once, Delilah had punched her and of course Bryce and Eleanor discovered it, the stupid wench punched her in the face and gave her a black eye. Of course they went to Rendon and Delilah was punished for it. After that, Delilah was raging mad at Elissa for weeks, even though it was Delilah who had punched her, just because Elissa got to play Rowan in a play at the Palace in Denerim. ' _The King's just sucking up to your father, I've heard what they say you know – that the King needs to keep the Teyrns happy, that's why he's letting the Cousland's fat little pig play Rowan'._ Delilah had punched her when she protested and then she ran off laughing with Habren and Izot. Elissa hadn't even wanted to play Rowan, but her mother told her she'd have to, since the King wanted it. Maric had wondered how she'd gotten a black eye. Her mother had told him she got it while playing and then Elissa had to cover it up with coal and coloured crèmes, until she looked more akin to a ghoul than a girl.

Elissa decided to head back in to the castle and go to bed. It was late and she was sure nobody would mind her excusing herself for the evening. When she got back into the great hall, there were still lots of people there and she had to really search the hall, until she found her father with King Maric, talking to Bann Loren and Bann Teagan. Elissa walked up to them and excused herself for the evening, thanking the king especially for a nice day.

"Are you sure you're all right, pup? You look a little pale", her father asked with worried eyes.

"Yes, of course papa. Just tired, that's all. It's been a long day, after all" she answered and smiled somewhat forced.

"Indeed, get yourself to bed my dear" the king smiled towards her and nodded good night.

"Good night my Lords", Elissa made a curtsy before she kissed her father on his cheek and turned to leave the hall.


	5. 4

_13_ _th_ _August, 9:24_

 _Highever Castle_

Elissa had always loved to be able to work her body hard, specially wielding a sword or knives. She was better with a sword and shield, or with archery but enjoyed using knives sometimes. Lately she'd focused more on using a sword and shield with Fergus and ser Gilmore. Even when using sword and shield, her tactics relied on sneaking and on beforehand calculating the opponent's steps from its pattern of movement, watching the enemy close and dodging rushed attacks, dancing fast around the opponent, not giving it time to dodge her own attacks. Gilmore had described her style as a rogue with a shield in her left hand, and perhaps there was something to it. A swordsman would probably tell her she needed to build more muscle, to attack with more brute force or switch to knives altogether, but Elissa didn't care. Why switch to something that was her ideal opponent? A large man equipped with a sword and shield, or a large axe or great-sword. They were slower, needing to wield heavier weapons, but when they did damage, they did a lot of it. It made her giddy just thinking about the pure force in such an opponent, the rawness – and the way she would so easily dance around it.

To her great dismay, Loghain, often fighting with a sword and shield, were annoyingly fast and too calculating. He was, after all, an archer from start just like she was. Only learning to wield a sword as an adult. But he was one of the best swordsmen in Ferelden nevertheless. Elissa had to push her self harder than before when Loghain actually stopped coddling her on the training field. How a man that tall and strong, could be so fast and sneaky, with a shield no less, she just couldn't understand.

"Keep your eyes on my feet, Elissa!" Loghain shouted harshly as they circled each other on the field, both breathing deeply after going at it for at least an hour already. This was the first time they trained with actual weapons, they were blunt, of course – but could still cause some real harm if aimed right. Elissa had gotten a heavy smack on her right side from Loghain's shield and was bleeding from her lip after a bash from Loghain's elbow straight into her gob. Loghain had a gash on his left upper arm, leaving a trail of blood on sweaty shirt.

"You should have worn more armour", Elissa smiled as she trailed Loghain's feet, sensing the ground below her for an opportunity to charge.

"Don't lose focus! Where am I aiming? _What_ am I thinking?" he shouted as he kept his stern but fiery eyes on her, slamming his sword against his boots to keep her focusing on his movements. "Keep your eyes steady!"

Elissa concentrated on his legs, how Loghain moved and how he steadied himself with ease on the ground, just like herself. He was readying himself for a charge, his long slim legs making well thought-out movements, steadying into charging any moment now.

"Move!" Loghain shouted as he pushed himself with strength from out of the ground at the same time as Elissa dodged his sword as he made an upward movement over her chest. She quickly rolled to his side and jumped to her feet, kicking at his knee with her armed boot, but he stood steady on the ground. For a second he seemed to lose concentration and Elissa pushed him back before jumping out of his way at the same time. Loghain then quickly charged at her again, bashing her with his shield, pinning her down on the ground with the tip of his sword against her throat. She then kicked him again on his knee, harder this time and he crouched slightly, loosing his balance and releasing a grunt of pain. Elissa was yet again crawling to her feet – this time not quite as fast as before. Her body ached from bruises and dull pain in her joints. She could taste metal, but her adrenalin pushed her body forward, mounting another kick against Loghain, bashing him with her shield, but he quickly threw her off her feet again striking at her shins with his sword. This time she drew him down with her on the ground and he lost his balance, ending up in the late summer dust of the field as well.

Elissa was completely caught up in her near victory over the great Hero of River Dane and none of them had yet yielded, so she hit him with the pommel of her sword, almost using it as a dagger, this time over his shoulder and Loghain growled as he pushed himself over her and pressed his sword against her neck.

"Do you yield?" he hissed through his clenched teeth. Elissa breathed deeply from exertion and the adrenalin rushing through her body. She could feel the sweat dripping down from her temples, covering her forehead and damping her neck. She had never been this physically close to Loghain. He had never pushed her this hard before and she _enjoyed_ it. It felt like her whole body was trembling and exploding at the same time. The feeling of his entire body pushing against her, above her, made her body burn. His knee was pressed up against her privates and his heavy breathing against her chest and neck made her shiver. Something happened in her body at that point and their gazes fixed on each other.

"Yes" Elissa breathed deeply, trying to catch her breath, "I yield"

"You did well", Loghain said and pushed himself up from her. "You're getting better"

"I'm sore all over", She moaned as she sat up and stretched out her legs, "And you're bleeding", she couldn't help but to smirk a little, biting her bloodied lower lip as she looked up at Loghain, who dusted his shoulder off, inspecting his damage.

"Hm", he grunted, ignoring his damage, instead reaching out his hand to her, helping her back up on her feet. "Can you walk?"

"Yes, but-" Rhiannon moaned in pain again when she stood up and stretched out her back and arms, "I might have sprained my arm, or at least received a good knock to it"

"Let me have a look", Loghain grabbed her arm and started removing her long leather gauntlet, "Upper or lower arm?"

"Upper, I think, it's all a bit… _Fuck_ ", Elissa grimaced at his touch when he pulled of the gauntlet.

"You'll need to take off your jacket", Loghain said, seemingly oblivious to any modesty.

"Uh" Elissa hesitated and looked up at him for a second, "I think you'll need to help me unbutton it", she tried to move her arm, but pain wrecked through her as she pulled it forward to the opening of her jacket.

Loghain grunted and started to pull open the clasps on Elissa's tight leatherjacket. It was a typical sparring jacket with sewn-in metal plates, protecting her most vital body parts during combat training, used more often by dualists and rogues – rather than the heavy armour used by guards and sword wielding warriors. It was much easier to move in tight leather than a suit made entirely of steel. He had to remove her waist-belt to reach the clasps at her abdomen. He then helped her unharmed arm out of her jacket first and then carefully pulled her hurt arm out of the sleeve. Under the leather jacket she wore a thin shift, tucked into her trousers, and her breasts were tightly bound to keep them in place during all the movement of the sparring. She tried to ignore her self-conscious thought of showing him herself in a now sweat-drenched and stinking shift that was more see-through than modest.

Loghain rolled up her sleeve to her armpit and inspected her arm.

"It's starting to swell", he said in a surprisingly soft, but grating voice, "And you'll get a large bruise here, on the back of your upper arm – unless you want to use leeches"

"Leeches? Are you mad?" Elissa made a disgusted noise and cringed visibly. "Ouch, that hurt!"

"It doesn't feel like it's broken – can you move your fingers and your hand?"

"Yes" Elissa answered as she moved and stretched her fingers, grasping the air with her hand, "But who even uses leeches, when there's mages?"

"Simple farmers, commoners. They have very few court mages in small villages" Loghain couldn't help but to crack a small small smile at the young girls somewhat ignorant remark, making it so very obvious she's the daughter of a noble.

"I see…" she answered and sighed, then she smiled up at him, feeling as if she got sucked into his cold gaze. Her large blue eyes had a shimmer about them, which made her seem so innocent and young. Undamaged.

"Let's get you back to the castle, you've got dust all over you", Loghain gave her a careful smirk and rolled down her sleeve.

After a soothing bath with scented oils, Elissa was given poultices for her bruises and Castiel came and rubbed oils in to her hair. She sneered at Elissa for making such a mess of herself when sparring.

"If it's not with Fergus, it's with that blasted knight, ser Gilmore – and now you're marrying someone even worse, Maker's breath, Elissa", Castiel gave her a teasing smile through the mirror and dried her hair.

Elissa was dressed in a green thin linen dress and since most of the noble visitors had left after breakfast, she could leave her hair loose and enjoy being more casually dressed. The celebrations were finished and the King and is company would stay for two more days before heading back to Denerim. In three weeks time the Cousland's would head to Denerim as well, for the Landsmeet and Estri's wedding to Bann Renhold. It was to be held in the Denerim Chantry, as Bann Renhold lived permanently in Denerim and not in his Bannorn.

When she had slipped into her soft felt shoes, she made her way down from the private quarters of the castle to the library were she met her father.

"How are you doing, pup? I heard from Loghain you took quite the beating during your sparring session", Bryce looked worried and stroked her cheek softly.

"It was nothing, father. Don't worry, Loghain simply makes me work harder so that I can improve my techniques", Elissa smiled to her father, "You needn't worry, I promise"

"As fierce as your mother, dear Maker", Bryce sighed and smiled back, still retaining his worried look.


	6. 5

_1_ _st_ _Kingsway, 9:24_

 _Denerim_

The summer was coming to an end and the weather moved towards autumn, the trees in the garden of the Cousland's Denerim Estate had started shifting in colour towards more red, orange and yellow. Elissa had always liked autumn more than any other season. It felt so easy and content, as if nature itself had accepted its own impending death and rested until its resurrection during spring. During autumn, nature withdrew and laid itself to rest.

The Cousland's had been in Denerim for a week and the Landsmeet was to start in two days time. During the past week Elissa had been forced to attend Salons with her mother in the different estates in Denerim's High Town and Palace. She'd been moping through the different ordeals, frustrated about having to dress up almost every day and not being allowed to stroll the Denerim streets on her own. There had been an uprising in the Alienage; therefore her parents insisted that the streets were too dangerous for a young noble such as herself. Elissa had simply snorted and finally agreed to be escorted around the city with at least one of the Cousland's guards in her heels.

Loghain hadn't had any time for sparring with her during the week, she thought it due to the uprising, but there was a banquet tonight in Arl Kendells estate all the nobles present in Denerim would attend, and so were the Couslands. Perhaps Loghain would be there, Elissa had missed him, somewhat. Even though she was still slightly annoyed with him. She couldn't escape the feeling of being bought. Habren and Izot's words had stuck in her head and it still whispered to her in the back of her head. What if they were right? Loghain hadn't proposed to her, it was the king – more or less making a business arrangement. But still, it was better than poor Estri. At least Rhiannon got a whole Teyrnir. Estri got a vile husband and a Bannorn on the border to Orlais. _Poor Estri_.

Perhaps she could send a message for Loghain? Telling him she'd like to talk to him. _No, you're being ridiculous. You simply have to ride this out and hope for the best._ She needed to stop being silly and just accept the situation. She should be happy she'll marry a man she feels _something_ for, even though he might not feel anything even close to that about her, but he had after all, agreed.

Loghain knew Elissa had been in Denerim for the last week, but he'd been busy with meetings and the damned uprising in the Alienage. Those blasted elves were never going to be satisfied no matter what you did. They had tried reform after reform, trying to get them to move out of the Alienage and live side by side with the humans – but they refused. Instead they complained and _nagged_ about their miserable situation, which they seemed dead set on remaining in. Perhaps they should simply purge the Alienage? That would rid them of all their problems for the time being. Have a troop of the Royal guard march into the Alienage and kill everything that moves and then burn the shantytown down.

 _No_.

Loghain sighed tiredly as he sat in front of his large desk in his study in the Denerim palace. His head ached and he tried to rub his temples but to no avail. Before him were stack upon stack with letters, documents and just _work_. Never ending _work_. How had he ended up here? In this damned city, with work up to his ears? He was drowning in paperwork, but he wasn't a bureaucrat. He was a warrior, a former rebel for fuck's sake, and the general of every bloody force to be reckoned with in the entire country. He wasn't made for sitting locked up in some study, growing fat and frustrated, drinking himself to an early death out of sheer boredom.

 _Damn the knife-ears, damn them all the way to the void. Let them rot in their own shit_.

To add injury to insult, the arrogant idiot Kendells hosted a banquet this evening, where he had to show up and be seen, or else the nobles would have his head. He simply despised attending all these insufferable gatherings of pompous noblemen and women, sucking up to each other, spreading horrid gossip among them, sharing it like it was honey almonds for children.

But, Elissa would be there. At least he could rest his eyes on her and perhaps feel somewhat content with the fact that in a few years he was marrying a woman who seemed to despise these social gatherings as much as himself. She was good company, he couldn't deny that, and a very enjoyable sparring-partner. For her age, she was promising. Perhaps he should try to make time for some practice in Fort Drakon while she's here, surely that would cheer her up and with how things looked at the moment, it'd cheer him up immensely.

In the late afternoon, Loghain made his way from the palace to his estate in Denerim. It was only a stone's throw away from the Cousland Estate and as his gaze fell over the high wall surrounding it and the thick metal gate. His body burned and he realised his body hadn't responded in this way for years to the thought of a woman. He was struck with the feeling from their last training session in Highever a few weeks ago, he had pushed her, wearing her down. She had fought like a heroine from one of those old tales, not giving in to his efforts to best her. Finally, he had bashed her with his shield but she had dragged him down with her, forcing him to pin the fighting young woman down with his whole body. She'd become stronger than he'd expected over the passing of a few months and she'd been practicing. He had noticed.

When they lay there on the dry muddy ground, her large dark blue eyes had locked with his and unlike almost everyone else, she never looked away. Everyone else did. She had always been able to look him straight in the eye without flinching. He had felt her strained breathing against his face and his body had responded to her heavy breath and the softness of her. They had both been dripping in sweat, beaten and exhausted – since they seemed to be equally stubborn, but she had finally yielded. She'd had a warm, almost burning look in her eyes as he pressed her down, a look he hadn't seen in a woman's eyes for years. She had awoken something inside him; something deeply buried and closed off. Something he did _not_ expect the lass to do. _Control yourself, lecherous old man_.

Elissa was dressed in her favourite deep blue dress for the evening, after being thoroughly scrubbed with citrusy oils. Castiel braided her hair neatly as usual and pulled the abundance of braids up to a curling high coiffure on her head whilst letting the long free locks fall down her neck, shoulders and back. Castiel pinned a thin metal diadem, with sapphires and pearls, over her forehead and back in her dark hair. Her eyes were slightly coaled, making them stand out a bit more and giving her a surprisingly grown up complexion. A fox-fur was strapped around her shoulders and her leather and silver belt hanged from her hips, with Haelia's ceremonial knife hanging from it. She wore thin leather boots under her dress, laced tightly around her shins..

The last thing Castiel did, before she felt Elissa was ready, was to pull her waist in further, by pulling the laces harder in the back almost chocking the life out of Elissa.

"My dear girl, you look like a queen", Eleanor stood in the doorway and gazed upon her daughter who stood chocking whilst having her waist pulled in further.

"I bloody well feel like once", Elissa hissed looking back over her shoulder, "Damn it Castiel! I can't breathe!" Rhiannon spat at her lady-in-waiting. "Why does these gatherings always have to be so pompous? And why am I dressed like this? I'm already betrothed!"

"That's the reason you _are_ dressed like that. You're a young woman now, love. Not a girl. You have to look like a young woman" Eleanor chuckled and smiled warmly to her daughter. She looked so grown up, to think just a few years ago she ran around the back gardens in Highever, tumbling in bushes, getting sprigs in her hair and mud on her puffy little cheeks. Eleanor could still remember the day she was born – _however could she forget?_ How she had counted every little finger and every little toe. Elissa had been perfect then and she was perfect now.

Loghain had arrived at Arl Kendells castle with his daughter Anora and prince Cailan, Maric was indisposed, more or less meaning he had no desire to set his foot in the insufferable Arl's castle when he really didn't have too and instead spent the evening drunk with some elven maiden warming his bed. He was the King and he could escape some of these trials of horror – as a mere Teyrn, Loghain could not. After the usual curtsies and nods, Loghain could finally take a deep breath and head for the first servant he saw serving wine and quickly snatch a goblet.

"Maker's breath, father" Anora sighed and rolled her eyes, "Can't you even pretend to like these gatherings a little?" Loghain didn't answer her, merely exchanged a gaze with her and started to drown his displeasure in wine. It would be a long evening. "It's bad enough you simply refuse to wear doublets. That coat makes you look like a Tevinter noble" Anora hissed, leaning in close to Loghain's ear.

"You know I don't wear doublets" Loghain scowled sarcastically, "They itch"

Anora snorted and turned her attention to Cailan instead and walked off and before Loghain even had the opportunity to take a relaxing breath, Bann Loren stood beside him with Arl Eamon Guerrin of Redcliffe, his hideous Orlesian bitch of a wife Isolde and meek brother Bann Teagan in tow.

"Loghain, it's a long time since we last met", the pompous bastard Eamon greeted him by opening his arms and then padding him on the shoulder, _condescending arse_.

"Ah, yes, Teyrn _Loghain_ ", Arl Eamon's Orlesian wife said in that horrible, screeching accent that made him want to rip his ears off and cut her tongue out.

"Eamon. Isolde" Loghain nodded and tried to retain his grave disliking snarl, "Bann Loren, Bann Teagan"

Arl Eamon was a retched man, caring more for bloodlines than anything and he'd constantly shown a great dislike for Anora's simple heritage and her betrothal to his nephew Cailan. Eamon and Teagan were brothers of Maric's late wife Queen Rowan and therefore had a great deal of influence in court, but mainly in the Bannorn, surrounding Redcliffe. He had opted for Maric to break Cailan's engagement to Anora, to marry Elissa when she was born – only because of her Calenhad blood. Of course, Maric had refused, which had created somewhat of a schism between Denerim and the southern Bannorns.

"I hear congratulations are in order", Eamon cloyingly smirked with put on cheer and raised his goblet, "To your new _bride_!" He seemed to taste the last word long enough for him to almost choke on his own breath, "The Lady Elissa! I never though I'd see the day when you outmanoeuvred me through political marriage"

"Hm", Loghain sneered dryly and raised his goblet, "To Lady Elissa"

"Speaking of the beauty", Teagan said and looked over his shoulder with raised eyebrows, "There we have the bride to be"

She was indeed a sight to be had, Loghain thought and felt a sense of pride and an urge to gloat at Eamon. The pompous Arl observed Elissa with a burning anger in his eyes, while his bitch of an Orlesian wife literally dropped her jaw. Both Bann Loren and Teagan eyed her with a stroke of desire, _as they should_ , Loghain thought to himself. Eamon snorted and returned his angered eyes to Loghain.  
"Well, a good evening to you, Loghain"

Elissa arrived at Arl Kendells castle, escorted by her brother Fergus and his Antivan fiancée Oriana. She had just recently arrived from Antiva to Denerim. They were to be married in Highever during Satinalia in Firstfall and due to the vast distance from Antiva to Ferelden, she arrived a couple of months early. Prince Cailan and Anora Mac Tir immediately greeted Elissa when she entered the great hall of the Denerim castle. Anora was stunning; she looked like a queen from some fairy tale with her naturally platinum blonde hair and large icily blue eyes. She was regal just as a queen should and was several inches taller than Elissa. Cailan seemed to eye her from top to bottom, with a smug smirk on his face. It made Elissa's cheeks burn a bit more than she wanted and it was also highly improper for a promised lady.

"Lady Elissa, what a lovely pleasure to finally meet you" Anora almost burst out with a sincere smile. She softly grasped Elissa's hands and hugged them lightly with her own. "I've been looking forward to meeting you since my father told me of your betrothal", Elissa had never really met Anora, since she spent most of her childhood in Gwaren with her late mother and only started attending Salons and gatherings in Denerim at a rather late age. Since Anora was seven years older than Elissa and they never had the chance to meet during those few gatherings they both frequented, until now.

"Lady Anora, it's certainly a pleasure indeed", Elissa felt slightly awkward, with Cailan not so discreetly eyeing her. But she was somewhat soothed by Anora's sincere approach. Of course she had known Loghain's daughter was older than herself, though she had before this meeting always pushed those thoughts aside, instead trying to pretend nothing was strange about it at all. And in some ways, there was nothing strange about it, older men marrying younger brides was common among the nobility all over Thedas. She did not, however, know how usual it was for her betrothed's daughter's betrothed to be casting her such glances. "And Cailan, it's lovely seeing you again so soon", Elissa smiled and made a curtsy towards the prince.

"And you as well, Elissa" Cailan nodded with a smirk on his lips and a somewhat prolonged glance. What was he playing at, Elissa thought to herself and tried to not blush too much. "And Fergus! Who's this lovely creature? Introduce me, if you please", Cailan's attention was suddenly elsewhere and Elissa could breathe again as he turned to Oriana.

As Fergus introduced Oriana to Cailan, Elissa and Anora stood and contemplated each other for a minute or so, smilingly. Anora had the same stern look about her as Loghain, but her smile was soft and she had a warmness to her approach that made Elissa relax in her company. She truly seemed sincere and glad and content with her father remarrying.

"Elissa, may I call you Elissa?" Anora asked and without waiting for an answer, she took Elissa's arm and pulled her away, "Come, let's find some refreshments, shall we?" Anora smiled and began walking towards a servant with a tray filled with silver goblets.

"Yes, thank you", Elissa exhaled with a chuckle and walked beside Anora.

As they had both grabbed a goblet of sweetly spiced wine each that tasted of cinnamon, Anora leaned towards Elissa.

"How do you feel about the whole ordeal? I know my father can be a difficult man, but he's not as bad as everyone seems to think"

"I know", Elissa gave a modest smile, "He's a good man at heart. I've known him for many years, and as you probably know, he's been my tutor", she said, looking at Anora.

"Ah, yes, of course" Anora sipped her wine, "But it'll be a completely different situation from now on, is that making you uncomfortable? I know how I first felt when I really realised what being betrothed to Cailan meant, what marriage meant"

"Well, we're both daughters of Teyrn's, aren't we? This is what is expected of us"

"Indeed" Anora nodded.

"But it doesn't make me feel uncomfortable. Loghain has been nothing but kind to me – and I enjoy his company, a great deal in fact"

"That is very promising to hear, Elissa", Anora gazed out over the great hall. "My father is here somewhere, but I felt I wanted to get to know you a bit for myself first and I am very happy having done so", she smiled.

"Me too", Elissa looked at Anora with a smile, "And thank you very much – that's very kind of you", Elissa said and sipped her sweet wine.

Loghain watched as his daughter spoke to Elissa. They smiled and leaned in towards each other as they talked and it almost looked as if they've known each other for years. Of course, this was a courtly courtesy. Loghain had, after all, raised a politician and strategist. But Anora's smile seemed honest and not forced as they so often were. Just like with himself, Anora seldom smiled in a sincere way. It was as if the chatter around him disappeared and became some sort of blurred background noise as he watched the two young women. Anora was older than Elissa, but Elissa looked older in her dress and with her coaled eyes than she did in her sparring leathers with tousled hair. He enjoyed the way she looked on the field as well, but seeing her like this, made him feel somewhat less of a dirty old man taking advantage of a young maiden.

After an hour or so of general small talk and mingling about the room, as Loghain had watched her from afar, Elissa seemed to tire of the commotion inside the great hall and walked towards the door leading out into the garden. It seemed a good time to speak to her. She was always a pleasant conversationalist when he'd actually made the few small efforts to talk to her. He grabbed a new goblet of wine and followed her out into the Kendells inner gardens, which was still somewhat green and filled with late blooming flowers, nestled in with the red and yellow leaves of autumn.

As he reached the gardens, he found her further in on a bench, cradling her goblet of wine, looking as if she was enjoying the cooling autumn air that made itself known during the evenings of Kingsway.

"Elissa", Loghain approached her as softly as he could to avoid giving the poor girl a scare.

"Loghain", she smiled up at him and made space for him on the bench, "I had to get out from that horrible gathering, I'm telling you, Arl Eamon has been eyeing me for over an hour and I can't stand that man!" Loghain couldn't help but to smile slightly at her comment.

"He's a prat" He said with a sigh as he sat down beside her and drew a deep breath. He could feel her eyes on him before she turned away and looked straightforward again. "I saw you talking to Anora. Have you met before?"

"I do believe we have", Elissa said and looked at Loghain, "But we've never spoken. She'll be a good queen, I reckon", Elissa smiled and sipped her wine.

"She will", Loghain answered more dryly than he had intended.

They sat in silence for a while on the bench in the garden. It seemed they were alone outside and the only noise they could hear, except for birds chippering came from within the castle. Loghain thought the silence was comfortable, it made him relax just sitting there beside her, feeling the heat coming of from her body, her chest rising and falling with every breath she took. She was mature for her age, in many ways – as she'd been since she was a small child. She could say the most peculiar things, that made most adults flinch in surprise and she would notice, but simply laugh in that rolling childish way children laugh. She'd been adorable with her dark curls and he remembered how she'd fallen asleep in Maric's lap, cradled by his soft touch and never ending chatter. Maric was a warm individual, a kind hearted man and he'd taken a liking to her fast and she'd adored the King immensely. She would sit and listen to all his ridiculous stories with wide eyes, almost drooling from concentration at times.

Now, as she sat there beside him, she was no longer that adorable little girl, staring up at the king with her wide-open eyes, or fascinatingly scrutinizing Loghain from the king's lap. She was a young breath-taking woman. She had grown out of her childish roundness and her cheekbones had risen – she still had a soft heart-shaped face, but her complexion was serious and her lips had a full poutiness with small, small creaks in both the upper and lower lips. He suddenly felt an urge to lean towards her and kiss her, but restrained himself. _Maker, she's still but a child_. But then her soft hand reached out to his, as if asking him for a confirmation of trust if he answered by taking it, and he did. He could see her smiling to herself as he felt the warmth of her fair skin from her still tender hands and something inside him started to burn again. This time, it was not just desire – it was something deeper, something profound he couldn't put into words in his thoughts. It wasn't the kind of magical feeling he had gotten from her in the Chantry in Highever during All Soul's Day – it was something natural as if it came from her and her alone, reaching into the very depths of his own self.

"Loghain", her voice startled him as he had disappeared into his own thoughts as they sat there, her hand softly squeezing his and him gently pressing his fingers around her palm.

"Mm?"

"This… Is probably going to sound very strange", Elissa took a deep breath, blushing slightly as she seemed to go over something in her mind, pondering whatever it was she was going to say. "I… Well, since we are to be married, it's still a few years until then, but, still… I thought –"

He watched her trying to put something that was difficult for her to say, into words. It was odd to see her this, hesitant. She'd normally say pretty much what she thought without difficulty.

"I-I want you to kiss me, I want to know how it feels to… Well, to kiss you"

Loghain stared at her, knowing his eyes would probably scare her. She seemed fine, however, aside from the obvious blush on her cheeks.

"You want that?" He asked and then chuckled slightly. She looked perplexed at his smile at first, but then her eyes fell to his lips and she licked her own lips. He couldn't help watching her tongue peak out, and then she spoke again.

"Well, yes. That's what I asked, is it not?" She was back into her normal quick-wittedness.

"You did", he felt breathless. Was he really going to do this? He must be insane, or bewitched. Leaning towards insane, surely.

"So?"

"So?" Loghain couldn't help himself in repeating what she'd just said. She looked nervous in a way he'd never seen before, her eyes fluttering as she watched him. He didn't know if it was even right to actually _want_ to give her what she had asked. But he squeezed her hand and stroked her cheek with his other hand, turning her face towards his, leaning down against her. Her breath was warm and sweet with a small hint of cinnamon from the wine and as he came so close as their lips almost touched, her lips parted slightly and met his. He kissed her softly, feeling her soft and full lips against his own thin lips. She tasted as sweet as her breath and he had to restrain himself from the burning feeling of desire that grew inside of him. She parted her lips even more and he could feel her hand reaching for him, touching his chest and resting on it. His hand slipped in around her neck, into her thick curls and he felt her tongue hesitantly touch his lower lip and he let his own tongue meet hers as she pushed herself closer to him. Eventually he realized he probably hadn't breathed for several minutes and drew back, breathing heavily. She nervously cleared her throat, seeming equally out of breath. He stroked her neck and cheek and she smiled a faint, but nevertheless lovely smile.

"So?" He asked again, lifting the corner of his mouth slightly. She laughed quietly but didn't shy away from his gaze.

"So" She answered, smiling. "I think I'll marry you, after all"

"Is that so?"

She leaned closer to him and kissed him again, deeper this time, more eagerly and daring and he answered her kisses pulling her close to him and he felt her reach her arms around his neck as his hands rested on her hips. He had lost control of some parts of his body, her heat and soft lips had made it impossible for him the restrain the burning sensation he felt, rising – flooding him. The round curve of her hips and the softness of her body through her thin dress made his body disobey him. Fortunately he could still control his hands, as the kisses grew deeper and deeper. She moaned softly as he stroked her hips and the curve of her back and he wanted to devour her, pull her onto his lap and ravish her – but from that, he could restrain himself, thankfully.


	7. 6

_3_ _rd_ _Kingsway, 9:24_

 _Denerim_

The Landsmeet, Elissa sighed and sat with her back straight on one of the balconies, trying her best not to think of Loghain's lips against hers. It was difficult when he was right there, down on the elevated dais standing just to King Maric's side. He looked sharp and cold as he seemed to be listening carefully to what was said. He showed no emotion where he stood, his palm covering the hilt of the sword hanging at his hip.

"How is it possible that the peace treaties are working, if Orlais still sends bards to our court? And with the chevaliers strengthening their presence on their side of Gherlen's Pass? We all know that the entire Orlesian Empire is completely unreliable, and their Empress about as corrupt as an Antivan crow. How can we even trust these so called treaties with a nation like Orlais?"

"We must strengthen our boarders, not only the land boarders along Gherlen's Pass, but also at sea, we need to increase our fleet _now_ or we leave a great deal of our coastlands open for chevaliers invading by ships. We are no longer protected by the waters – the Orlesians have spent the last 20 years building up their fleet to be their primary military focus, and that leaves us _completely_ unguarded"

"Teyrn Mac Tir, you have everything to gain from supporting the reinforcements of our fleet, you are the Teyrn of the region in Ferelden that has the largest resources, both when it comes to labour and material for building ships. Your Teyrnir would prosper greatly from a ship building industry and you already have the main boating industry in the entire nation, providing the entire nation with well-built boats and ships. How could you _not_ want to increase the profits of your region?"

"It is true, Teyrn Mac Tir. It would also mean a greater inflow of builders of all trades into Gwaren, strengthening the whole population in that area of Ferelden, which also is a well guarded and secluded area, well protected from Orlais"

"Excuse me, my Lords and Ladies, but how would you suggest we _pay_ for all of this, we are still paying for the restoration from the Rebellion and it's been over 20 years. Our economy is suffering, we have debts to several states in the Free Marches and to Antiva and Rivain"

"If you haven't already forgotten, this is the primary reason for the King's visit to the Free Marches in a months time, to negotiate the situation of our debts. Our national debt is not by any means too large or a reason for worry – Ferelden pulls its own weight in relation to its neighbours and those neighbours understand the Orlesian threat. They have been subjected to the very same oppression themselves"

"It is not possible for us to increase the naval presence without decreasing the entire Fereldan army. Our security is built up from a national force, connecting with each Arling and Bannorn's own regional forces, combined with the Royal army and the border guards. It is impossible to simply add an entire force on the sea as well, without losing a vast presence on land"

The headache was back, Loghain's temples was throbbing, sending down streams of pain to his neck and making his eyes blur. He winced as he squinted his eyes, rubbing his forehead and drawing a deep breath to focus his attention back to the vast amount of Arls, Banns and nobles gathered in the throne room of the Denerim Palace. During the afternoon, they were to publicly execute an Orlesian bard that had tried to infiltrate the palace. The Empress had sent bards before, but this one was the first in several years and with the increasing numbers of chevaliers at the border, it was _not_ a good sign. Maric's weak peace with the Orlesians obviously did not hold. Loghain had known this from the start. The orlesians are not to be trusted. They view Ferelden as a rightful part of their Empire, a mere region that should be ruled by some Orlesian Lord, swearing fealty to the Empress and using its people as a slaves to further increase their own wealth.

During the occupation, Fereldans had been treated worse than dogs by their Orlesian Lords. The Orlesians had steadily increased the taxes as a way of both scaring and undermining the already poor and starving Fereldan commoners and workers. If a Fereldan couldn't afford to pay the ridiculously high taxes, their lands would be confiscated and chevaliers would go in and take the women and daughters as nothing more than slaves, forcing them into servitude, by means of rape and abuse. It didn't matter if you were a Fereldan noble or commoner; the nobles had been thrown out of their castles and estates, replaced by Orlesian nobles and lived as commoners. Some of them had agreed to swear fealty to Orlais and had immigrated to smaller towns within the empire, living under false protection by the Empress. The orlesians had supressed the Fereldans for generations, grinding their pride down to gravel. Almost a century of stomping proud Highlanders and Lowlanders down the mud, raping their mothers, wives, sisters and daughters – even their fathers, sons and brothers – banish the thought. There was no forgiveness to be found. Humiliating a proud ancient nation down to its core, forcing it into submission by the most disgusting and demoralizing warfare one could imagine.

"Well then, you have all been able to put forward your arguments towards increasing out naval presence, are we ready to vote on this matter?" King Maric sighed as he raised his voice from his throne, overlooking the entire throne room with a tired look, resting his chin on his knuckles. As Teyrns, Loghain and Bryce stood on each side of the king and the court seneschal was to administer the voting.

"Yes, your majesty" the representative for the southern Bannorns agreed, as the representative for the northern Bannorns nodded in agreement.

"Whom here agrees to increase our naval presence and are willing to help found it?" The king asked and nodded towards the seneschal, who directly started to take notes.

"Highever agrees", Bryce said.

"Gwaren disagrees", Loghain retorted.

"Denerim agrees"

"Amaranthine agrees"

"Rainesfere disagrees"

"Redcliffe disagrees"

"South Reach disagrees"

"West Hill agrees"

"Waking Sea agrees"

"Southern Bannorn disagrees"

"Dragon's Peak disagrees"

"White River disagrees"

"Oswin disagrees"

"Drakon River disagrees"

"River Dane agrees"

"City of Amaranthine agrees"

"Gherlen's Pass disagrees"

"Alamar agrees"

"Lothering disagrees"

"Eight region's agree, eleven disagree. We will not increase the naval presence in the Waking Sea and Amaranthine Ocean during 9:24 Dragon", the seneschal proclaimed. Loghain took a deep breath of relief, had the bid gotten a majority of the votes – he'd have to start a whole new strategy of defending the entire land, working needlessly reforming their entire army and it would take years. Their army was sound, from a defensive point of view and Ferelden had no intention of invasions. During the Rebellion they had been able to reclaim the entirety of the lands that once made out the sovereign Kingdom of Ferelden and at this point, there was no need to expand.

"Noted", the King answered. "I do however propose a decree of increasing the naval army by three military ships to be placed in the large military docks around the sea boarders of Ferelden, those being Waking Sea, Highever and Gwaren"

"Highever agrees" Bryce nodded.

"Gwaren agrees" Loghain sighed, still rubbing his forehead. A short discussion between the northern Bannorns and the southern Bannorns alike broke out on each side of the throne room.

"The Northern Bannorns agree" their representative announced.

"The Southern Bannorns second the motion"

After several more lengthy discussions about ship building and financial status, considering the king's decree, it seemed even Bann Alfstanna was happy with the results. She didn't get her minimum of ten new ships, but at least she got some _ships_ and Loghain got the pleasure of writing to his seneschal back in Gwaren to start the building process. Before the execution of the Orlesian bard, they were able to handle the usual land disputes common in the Bannorn regarding anything from a Bann allowing a farmer to put up a fence too close to another Bann's lands or claims of cattle theft and other minor conflicts. By the time they ended the day's session Loghain felt as if his head was about to explode and he wanted nothing more but to crawl back into his bed and draw the curtains shut. But considering his day was far from over, he decided to take a quick nap in his study and then try to drown his headaches with whiskey. If he only drank enough, it would dull out his aching head – as it always did.

Public executions were one of the more morbid amusements of the common people; the nobles and scholars mainly saw it as a necessary thing to please the majority. Elissa had witnessed several beheadings and hangings in Highever during her upbringing. It was one of the more unpleasant parts of being raised the daughter of a Teyrn – they had to be witnessed. She could still remember the first execution she witnessed, standing close to her mother, pressed against her hip and clasping her mother's skirt. When the latch loosened unlocking the fall gap on which the condemned prisoner stood and he fell, the rope around his neck caught him and quickly snapped his neck with an almost crisp sound. Elissa had shrieked into her mother's skirt, unable to take her eyes of the flinching body hanging limp from the rope. After the flinching stopped, she could see the prisoners leg and crotch darkening as his bodily fluids left him and she'd thought it horribly humiliating as the rest of the village cheered and seemed to celebrate the poor man's death.

It was still an unpleasant ordeal to deal with, but after a few hangings and beheadings, one couldn't help but to get somewhat… Used to it. They were disturbing – yes, but they had to be done. Serious crimes such as treason and espionage against the own nation by a fellow Fereldan was punished in a torture-like fashion, however this afternoon it was regarding an Orlesian spy. It was a woman and as she was being led out on the stage of execution by two royal guards. Her blonde hair was tousled and dirty. _She_ was dirty, after spending several weeks in the dungeons and it was obvious she had been tortured. She was covered in dirt and coagulated blood and her face was swollen and her eyes looked sunken.

Elissa sat at the side of the stage with King Maric, prince Cailan, Anora and Loghain, behind her Fergus and her parents stood, together with the Arl of Denerim, Arl Eamon, Bann Teagan and Arl Howe. Anora looked calm and clasped her gloved hands in her lap, Cailan looked slightly nauseous. He had never been able to handle these things without having his emotions written on his forehead. King Maric simply looked bored and sat in his usual way, leaned back with his head against his right knuckles and a leg resting over his knee. Loghain rose from his chair with a scowl to read the accusations and the judgement as the woman was led by the royal guards to stand in front of the large block on which her head was to be resting for the final seconds of her life. Loghain stood in front of the headsman and gazed with his icy eyes on the blonde woman to his left.

"This woman has been found to be an Orlesian spy, a bard sent by the Empress of the Orlesian Empire to infiltrate the Fereldan Royal Court and extract sensitive information to undermine the sovereignty of the Fereldan Kingdom", Loghain read out, his voice dry and devoid of any emotion, "Do you have any last words?" Loghain turned to look at the woman. He had a tired but still very much intimidating stare that seemed to pierce the woman as she looked up and met his gaze. It was certainly effective of Maric to use the great Hero of River Dane as the last person the caught Orlesians saw before they perished, as so many others of their countrymen during the Rebellion.

"Je crache sur votre justice", the woman shouted angrily and spat before her as she eyed Loghain and then King Maric, "Chiens de Fereldan!"

Loghain sighed and rolled out a parchment given to him by the seneschal.

"Josephiné Escoffier De Saint-Pierre Delcroix, bard and spy of the Orlesian Empire, I here by sentence you to death for espionage, by beheading. May the Maker do with you as he pleases", Loghain said in a distant and grating voice before nodding towards the Chantry Sister, notifying her she could now give the blonde woman her last blessing. Loghain returned to his chair beside Anora and sank down in it with his legs widespread, rubbing his temples and sighing deeply.

"Que le Créateur ait pitié de vous, traîtres de l'empire légitime!" the woman shouted as the guards led her to the block and pushed her down over it, removing her hair and exposing her neck for the headman.

As usual the headman was undoubtedly besotted with alcohol and seemed to stagger slightly as he approached the woman. Elissa couldn't help but to hope, more for her own sake than for the woman's, that her head was going to come off in one blow. The mess created by a drunken headman missing his target several times or failing to chop the head clean off, was…Unpleasant, to say the least.

Elissa could hear the woman silently praying to herself while the headman readied himself and raised his large axe. " _Le Créateur me pardonne, Andraste suave moi",_ then, with a dull thud, her head was separated from her body and Cailan winced beside his still very bored looking father. The head fell down on the wooden floor of the stage and rolled away a few feet as the crowd gathered below the stage fell silent for a minute before breaking out into cheering.

"Put it on a pike", Loghain said dryly and waved at the headman and then nodded towards the seneschal. "May the Orlesian whore get lost in the void" he murmured to himself before he rose from his chair, rubbing his forehead and started walking back towards his estate on the High town square.

Loghain knew he had to attend the dinner in the palace during the evening, since it was the Landsmeet. The nobles all gathered in the Palace for the days the meeting progressed. Usually it lasted for around three days, depending on how much needed to be discussed. The function didn't necessarily have to be as bad as a banquet or the like, it was slightly more relaxed and consisted mainly of a formal dinner, with discussions from the bygone day continuing on. Loghain simply needed to be rid off his headache and he could ride through the ordeal.

As he arrived home, he asked his footman Arlethan to prepare some soothing tea for his aches, they usually helped unless the headache was so bad he had trouble moving and seeing at all, however that wasn't the case today. According to the court mage and scholar, he suffered from what they called periodical migraine. He'd never heard of the condition before but they said it most likely had to do with stress and damage to the back of his neck that he'd received during the Rebellion.

He went up to his chambers and sat down on his bed, pulling off his boots and removing the dagger strapped around his shin. _Maker's mercy_ , he felt exhausted. He unbuttoned his stiff black wool and leather coat and threw it onto an armchair close to his bead and lay down on the bed, stretching out his legs, breathing deeply trying to retain some control over his throbbing head. It seemed to take Arlethan an eternity preparing the tea, but soon enough he arrived with the mug in his hand.

"My Lord, you have a visitor", Arlethan said.

"Huh?" Loghain grunted, "Hasn't Anora arrived back yet? Perhaps she could see to it"

"I'm afraid not, my Lord. It's Lady Elissa Cousland, she asked to see you"

"Hm", Loghain grimaced as he sat back up in his bed and took the mug of tea from Arlethan's hands, "Well, you better send her up then"

Arlethan nodded as he complied and returned downstairs to show Elissa up to Loghain's chambers.

Loghain puffed up some pillows behind his back as he leaned back against the backrest of his bed, sipping his tea as Rhiannon knocked on his door and entered. Her cheeks were rosy from the Denerim autumn cold and her loose dark curls danced around her shoulders and collarbones, blending together with the thick bear-fur on the neck lining of her dark grey cape. She wore a thick grey linen dress with a belt and black leather gloves. The cold had arrived during the morning and the last warmth of the late summer was now officially gone.

"Your footman told me you were feeling unwell, it wasn't my intention to disturb you" She smiled softly as she stood in the doorway.

"You're not disturbing me, Elissa" Loghain answered an drew a deep breath as he nodded for her to come in, "Close the door after you"

Elissa did as he asked and then sat down on the other side of the bed, smiling softly towards him, removing her gloves one finger at a time.

"You've not lit a fire in here, aren't you cold?" She asked and looked at the empty fireplace.

"Ah, yes. I can't cope with the smell from burning wood just now" he answered.  
"Is it headaches? I saw you rubbing your temples earlier"

"Mm", Loghain sighed and looked at her.

"Do you suffer from such aches often?"

"Yes" Loghain slurped down the last of his tea, "It's an old damage from the Rebellion"

"I see", she looked down on her hands, rubbing them together, "And I'm guessing the tea is suppose to help, yes?"

"Yes" Loghain put the mug down on the small table beside him.

"I've learned that it usually helps to keep your head warm and applying some pressure to the forehead and temples and massaging the scalp", Elissa said and gave him a meaning look, "I could do that for you, if it would please you"

Loghain hesitated slightly, she wasn't his maid and he very well knew how inappropriate it was to have her even sitting on the side of his bed – being alone with her in his bedroom. But they _were_ alone and she had come to him willingly and offered to help him, rid him off his pain. She was trying to be kind and helpful and he had missed the heat from her body since the evening at Arl Kendells banquet two days ago.

"Why not", he said dryly and sat up in the bed so she could sit down behind him. He leaned down against her soft chest, she always smelled faintly of citrus and herbs and her body was so soft against his own hard muscles. She untied his braids running down from his temples and stroked her fingers through his long hair, pressing softly against his scalp, drawing small circles with her warm fingers over his forehead, temples and scalp. He could feel himself relaxing in her bosom and a warm feeling came over him as his headache seemed to dull from the combination of her touch and the tea.

He closed his eyes and turned his head, burying his ear and cheekbone in her soft round breasts, he could hear her heart beating behind the soft female cushions on her chest, and he slumbered off.

Elissa sat there in the Teyrns bed, with her back leaned against the backrest and pillows, with the Teyrn resting in her bosom. She had continued to massage his forehead and scalp for a while longer, after she noticed his quiet snoring and deep breaths, now she simply enclosed his forehead with the warm palms of her hands.

Loghain looked so lovely and peaceful, spread out on top of the bed; his long slim leather-clad legs stretching out in a relaxed way, reaching down to the foot end, one leg slightly bent and hanging over the side of the bed. On his upper body he had a dark green loose tunic, tucked untidily down his trousers on one side of his hip. She could see his shift sticking up under the tunic, its white linen resting against his chest, untied around his neck and collarbones. He still wore a loosely tied dark scarf around his neck and he hadn't removed his waist belt, the knife rested softly in a crease on his groin. His long raven hair trickled down his cheekbones, over his shoulders and down his chest. Just like Maric, he retained his long hair and it was still very thick with just a few grey hairs mixing themselves with his almost bluish raven hair. He was always clean-shaved and she noticed small black stubbles on his cheeks and jaw, going over his philtrum and up to his cheekbones. His face had sharp features with a broad chin and high cheekbones and he had those small creases around his eyes, _crow's feet_ her mother called them. His eye sockets were darker than usual today, probably because of his headache and the altogether stress from the Landsmeet.

She could feel him press himself harder against her bosom as he slept, moving his head slightly and making small grunts as he breathed deeply. Sometimes she heard a snore, but she always kept at least one hand on his forehead, while either stroking his hair or his chest with her free hand. He had shifted his upper body more to the side as he rested and placed the hand closest to her body on her hip, the other one relaxing on his stomach.

Elissa didn't know for how long they had sat like that, but it started to darken outside and she could hear Loghain's footman speaking to Anora downstairs. She should probably try to wake Loghain up, but it seemed so cruel while he was resting so peacefully against her. His features had lost all of their harshness and the intimidating feeling as he slumbered. Even the wrinkles on his forehead and the frowning winkle of stress between his eyebrows had evened out. His light skin almost seemed to become more healthy-looking, instead of that almost greyish-white tone it usually had.

But she remembered there was a dinner tonight in the palace, they both had to attend and her mother would probably soon begin to wonder what she was doing for such a long time in the Gwaren estate. She had told her she'd wanted to speak to Loghain and possibly also have some tea with Anora, so her mother had allowed her to cross the market square over to the Gwaren estate, from the Cousland estate. In High town, there were guards everywhere and the Alienage was on the other side of town, so she was allowed to stroll the market during the day.

She stroked his cheek as she leaned down and kissed his scalp, whispering for him to wake up. He didn't respond and she thought that he must have been exhausted to fall asleep so easily and so deeply.

"Loghain", she said and stroked his hair, his face flinched slightly and he woke up with a recoil, as if he woke up in the middle of a battlefield and pushed himself up and away from her, seemingly startled and somewhat confused. As he stood up beside the bed, their eyes met and Elissa could feel how shocked she must look, though probably not as shocked as Loghain initially felt.

"What the fuck?" he let out while breathing in, "Of course" he cleared his throat, shaking his head. "I fell asleep"

"Does your head still hurt?" Elissa asked as she sat up in the bed and straightened out her back.

"No", he rubbed his forehead, "I doesn't" he smiled softly as he sat down on the side of the bed, beside her. "Thank you, Elissa"

"Of course" she smiled and stroked his upper arm.

Loghain leaned in against her and kissed her softly on her lips and his warm mouth felt soft and dry. She answered his kiss and parted his lips with her own, stroking his jawline and neck, as he reached around her waist, pulling her towards him.

"Maker, you are beautiful", she heard him whisper between their kisses and she smiled to herself as she let her tongue softly touch his and trace his lower lip. The touch of his lips, his tongue and his hands made it tickle intensely inside her and that familiar _burn_ started in her abdomen. Their kisses became more and more intense and Loghain pushed her down on the bed with him on top of her. She could feel his hardened groin push against her and at first she didn't realize what it was, if it was his knife or something else. Then she realized he burned as much as she did in that part of his body. She clasped his hair in her firsts and her breathing became heavier, as did his and she could feel his hand tracing her breasts down to her hips, as he pushed himself against her. His breathing almost trembled when she accidently let out a silent moan.

"My Lord", there was a knock on the door and they both darted from each other at the voice of Arlethan outside in the hall. Elissa and Loghain both sat down quickly in an armchair each, trying to uphold some manner of decency.

"Yes, Arlethan", Loghain answered and cleared his throat, "Enter"

"Good afternoon my Lord, I only wished to remind you and Lady Elissa about this evenings dinner at the Palace. The sun has set and the gathering will start soon"

"Of course. Perhaps you could escort the lady back to the Cousland estate" Loghain answered and nodded towards Rhiannon.

"That would be most kind, Teyrn Loghain", Elissa smiled, her cheeks still heating as she stood from the armchair, "Thank you for a pleasant discussion regarding ancient Tevinter strategies of warfare", Elissa smirked and nodded towards Loghain, "I'll meet you back at the palace in a short while"

*"I spit on your justice, Fereldan dogs!"

*"May the Maker have mercy on you, traitors of the rightful Empire"

* _Maker save me, Adraste forgive me_


	8. 7

_3_ _rd_ _Kingsway, 9:24_

 _The Royal Palace, Denerim_

Elissa's mother scolded her for arriving home so late from the Gwaren estate, especially when there was a dinner at the palace she was to attend. Eleanor couldn't believe how she could be so careless, or how Loghain of all people could even think to keep her there so late before a gathering. She merely scoffed when Elissa told her they had been discussing ancient Tevinter warfare and dragged her up to her room were Castiel waited, fully prepared with toiletries and a proper evening dress.

Castiel braided her hair with quick fingers and pinned down a matching braided silver diadem over her forehead. She sighed in annoyance over the small amount of time Elissa's delay had given her and tucked harder than usual when she helped dress her and pulled her dress at the waist.

Oriana, Fergus' fiancée entered Elissa's room unannounced with a teasing smirk on her face. Elissa liked her brother's fiancée and during her earlier visits they had gotten along very well. She was only two years older than Elissa and became more and more like an older sister to her. She spoke with a thick Antivan accent, blending Antivan and Fereldan in the most intoxicating way. She had the most beautiful long, shiny, straight dark hair and deeply dark-brown almond shaped eyes. To Elissa, Oriana looked like a northern desert princess with her broad full lips, pointy thin nose and long black eyelashes. She always smelled of pungent spices and cinnamon and her bronze skin glistened even in the shadows.

"Elissa, mi querida, what were you doing for such a long time in the Teyrns estate, huh?" She carried two mugs of wine and gave Elissa one of the mugs as she leaned herself back against Elissa's vanity.

"Discussing _warfare_ ", Elissa couldn't help but to smirk back at her teasing sister-in-law.

"Dios mío, Niña, you're not married yet!" She laughed making the sign of the Maker, "Don't worry mi amor, I wont tell"

"Seriously Oriana, I don't know what you and your utterly inappropriate and shameless Antivan imagination thinks happened", Elissa sighed and rolled her eyes, "But nothing happened"

"Sí, sí hermanita, of course not!" She sipped her wine and glanced teasingly smiling behind her mug at Rhiannon, "Just as Fergus and I, _nothing's_ happened, _at all_ ", she laughed ironically.

"Maker's breath! I don't think I want to even begin to know", Elissa grabbed her mug and let the wine trickle down her throat. "You can be really annoying, you know that, right?"

"That's what sisters are for, sí?" Oriana answered and smiled widely. "Vamos, Elissa. You look lovely! If you haven't got the Comandante eating out of your hand already, you will now", she said and pulled Elissa by the hand out of her room.

Bryce and Fergus were already at the gathering in the palace when Elissa arrived with Eleanor and Oriana. The throne room was dimly lit and she could immediately see Loghain sitting up by the throne with Maric, talking. He looked healthier than when she'd visited him this afternoon, as he balanced a wine goblet on the armrest of his chair. He and Maric sat leaned in close to each other and gazed out over the full throne room and Maric smiled as he seemed to tell Loghain some joke that as usual didn't make Loghain laugh, merely nod with a faint twist of his lips. They both looked perfectly royal up by the throne and it was a strange thought, Elissa realized as she watched them, that they ruled the whole of Ferelden. Loghain Mac Tir was to be her husband, and he _liked_ her – and there he sat beside the king, looking more relaxed than she'd ever seen him in such a public situation. Neither Loghain nor the king wore doublets, but instead lavishly decorated wool coats, Maric's obviously meant for inside use with its golden threads and embroidery. Maric wore a red and golden coat with intricate patterns and small gems and Loghain wore dark colours as black or dark brown leather.

They had retaken Ferelden from an Empire full of chevaliers, together with Queen Rowan. Her portrait hung just on the side of the throne, a full body portrait of the warrior queen clad in heavy golden armour and leaning against a huge great sword. Her fiery brownish auburn long hair fell down over her shoulders, seemingly caught in a wind and held down by her royal crown and she had a mabari resting by her feet. Now she watched over her husband and his general as they ruled the land together.

Elissa quickly found Estri and Hilda standing further inside the throne room and went to greet them with cheek kisses and smiles. They both seemed to be in high spirits this evening, even Estri, being eyed up by her fiancée, Bann Renhold, from the other side of the room. A servant came by with goblets of sweet apple and cinnamon cider and Elissa quickly grabbed one. Then she saw Habren and Delilah standing in the corner close to her, whispering together and demonstratively eyeing her. Elissa took a deep breath and tried the best she could to ignore them. _Sodding vipers_.

Estri mainly talked about her appending marriage, they were to be wed in a week and she was nervous, constantly fidgeting with her goblet but kept smiling and joking as usual. _Of course she was nervous_. In a week, she would have to consummate the wedding with _that thing_ , Elissa thought and looked over to Bann Renhold. Truth be told, Elissa wouldn't even wish that on Habren. Or, perhaps she would, Habren was after all a nasty bitch.

"Maker, you're so lucky marrying Loghain", Estri said and looked jealously up at the throne were Maric and Loghain sat.

"I don't know who's more handsome, to be honest, King Maric or your fiancée", Hilda smirked at Elissa. "I mean, they're both the same age as my father, but that doesn't matter as long as they're handsome, does it?"

"The same age as your _father_ , be happy you're not marrying someone the same age as your bloody _grandfather_ ", Estri hissed into her goblet. Elissa tried to smile without too much pity at Estri. She really felt sorry for her friend.

"You know", Hilda said in a hushed voice and leaned in towards Elissa and Estri, "I heard Habren and Delilah has been spreading some really nasty rumours about you Elissa"  
Elissa felt a weight over her chest as she blushed with the uncanny feeling of what Habren, Delilah and Izot could be up to now.

"What? I haven't heard anything", Estri whispered to Hilda.

"Apparently, you have slept with Nathaniel Howe, Vaughan Kendells and Dairren Eremin", Hilda whispered.

"I have not!" Elissa blurted out, angered by the foul gossip.

"Of course you haven't, we know that as well as you. I just don't get why they're so intent on going at you", Hilda shrugged.

"It jealousy, obviously", Estri said and stroked Elissa's arm.

"Why are _they_ jealous of _me_?" Elissa winced, "They are the daughter's of Arls, what do I have for them to be jealous of?"

"You are jesting, right?" Estri answered looking intently on Elissa, "You're father is a Teyrn and you're marrying the bloody _Hero_ of River Dane, who's also, as it happens, a Teyrn. You'll be a Teyrna and married to the second most powerful man in the whole country. Of course they're jealous. Maker, I am!"

"Not to mention your step daughter is going to be queen, married to _Cailan_ ", Hilda broke in and nodded.

"Bloody shit", Elissa sighed. "I didn't chose any of this, it's not as if it's my fault"

"Of course not, but still, they're small minded vipers, those three", Estri said and looked over at Habren and Delilah.

"That's a rather kind description", Hilda smiled softly and then looked at Elissa.

"So, I've slept with Nathaniel, Vaughan and Dairren. So, who told you?" Elissa asked Hilda.

"Thomas Howe", Hilda answered, "And… A few more"

Elissa sighed and groaned in annoyance, feeling humiliated and at the same time furious. "But don't mind it, Elissa. Just ignore it. If you don't let it get to you, they can't hurt you"

"That's right, you know. It's no fun picking on someone who doesn't care", Estri said and clasped Elissa's hand in support. Elissa was still fuming.

"I loathe these gatherings!" Elissa hissed in frustration as the bell rang for dinner in the great dining hall.

As the three young women moved towards the dining hall, she felt a hand on the curve of her back.

"You look lovely, Lady Elissa", Cailan smiled with one corner of his mouth as he walked up beside her.

"Oh, Cailan…Well, thank you, your majesty" she smiled back, but it seemed Cailan could see through her, that something was upsetting her.

"Is everything all right?" he asked, his lips all too close to her cheek as they walked. Habren and Delilah had caught up with Izot and they walked a few feet ahead of Elissa and Cailan. "I watched you talking to your friends just now, and it looked as if something upset you"

"Well", she sighed, "It's nothing special. You know how these gatherings are. We've both grown up with them, after all."

"Yes, of course", he nodded, his large blue eyes looking straight ahead as they walked, him resting his other hand on the pummel of his knife. "Perhaps you need some cheering up", he smiled mischievously, his blue eyes now intent on her.

"Cheering up?" Elissa answered and looked up at his sharp royal features.

"Well, if I can steal you away from your fiancée for a moment or two this evening", Cailan smirked and winked towards her.

"Cailan!" Elissa looked up at him with wide eyes and a smile, "What _are_ you up to?"

"Nothing", he smirked and lightly stroked the curve of her back. Elissa tried not to notice Cailan's hand and as they entered the large dining hall she straightened out her back and focused her eyes forward. A servant escorted them to their places at the long table. This time Elissa and Loghain had been placed beside each other. They had Anora in front of them, Elissa's father on the other side and beside Anora, Elissa's mother was placed. On Anora's left side was Cailan and at the end of the table was the king. These seating's were always like a family dinner, almost all the nobles was related somehow and the further up in the hierarchy, the closer the relations often were. Elissa thought about how difficult it must have been for Loghain to enter into this, just after the Rebellion. He was still very much a commoner, the son of a farmer, at heart. King Maric, as a way to keep him as a general and politician, had given him his noble title after the Rebellion though Loghain had kept his given name and surname, refusing to give up Mac Tir – a freeholder's name. It was old fereldan, meaning 'of the land' and it suited him in more ways than one.

Loghain had a warmth about him that evening that he seldom had and Elissa felt very close to him, trying to ignore the glances Cailan threw her now and again across the table. It really did seem as if Loghain enjoyed her. Anora kept smiling towards her softly in her strangely sincere way. As the first course was being served, salty ale and buckwheat cakes with sour clotted cream, dried venison and chives, Elissa asked Loghain about what she had thought about earlier, about his surname.

"My father was knighted by Maric just before his death during the Rebellion, but we were farmers, we don't use surnames as nobles do", he explained as he took a bite from one of the small buckwheat cakes. "Therefore, you simply just use your first name and then the name of your farmstead or village, or wherever you're from really"

"So, what were your parents names?" Elissa asked and took a sip from her ale.

"My fathers name was only Gareth", Elissa frowned, understanding escaping her, "And my mother's name was Elia"

"Elia? That's a beautiful name" Elissa said, "It still doesn't explain the 'Mac Tir?'"

"If you don't have a surname, or a real place you're from – you say you're from 'the land'", Loghain said, his eyebrows knitted, "Our farm was so small, it was more or less non-existent, therefore, when Maric knighted my father, we became 'of the land'"

"Huh", Elissa thought for a moment. "I think that's beautiful. Your mother, Elia, does Anora carry her name?"

"Yes"

"Woes she have Celia's names as well?" Elissa couldn't help her curiosity, she loved names for some reason and could spend hours thinking about which names were most beautiful in the different regions of Thedas.

"She does", Loghain nodded once, "Her full name is Elia Anora Celia Shannon" Loghain said and glanced over at his daughter.

"What are you two gossiping about?" Anora smirked at them both.

"I asked about Loghain's birth name and surname, and so I became curious about all your names, I hope you don't mind", Elissa answered.

"Certainly not, but then I would like to know your full name as well!", Anora focused her gaze on Elissa.

"Very well, Margaret Elissa Haelia Eleanor"

"You're named after Haelia? I must say that suit you well, dear sister" Anora smiled and Elissa thanked her, especially for the endearment as she returned to her buckwheat cakes.

"But, don't you have any other names, or is it just _Loghain_?" Elissa turned to Loghain again.

"It's only _Loghain_ , yes", he imitated her way of drawing out the vocals of his name and smirked. It still almost shocked her off her stool, when he actually did smile. Really, it turned her cheeks pink and she shook her head before stabbing her knife into the dried venison.

Shortly after, the second course was served. Salmon boiled in vinegar, honey and allspice, served with sweet onions, wheat dumplings and shredded conserved red cabbage. The salmon was served with a sweet white wine from the Anderfels and Maric had begun some cheery discussion about one of his and Loghain's adventures during the Rebellion. Cailan had teased him about being a terrible rider, but the king loudly protested and insisted you can't accuse someone of being a bad rider just because they have a tendency to fall off of horses.

"Are you doing alright, pup?" Bryce asked Elissa.

"Yes, of course papa. How was the Landsmeet discussions afterward?" Elissa asked and turned to her father.

"The usual, nothing that you didn't hear in the great hall. A few more ships, a few less fences in the Bannorn"

"Bann Alfstanna must be pleased Elissa said under her breath.

"Unfortunately, yes", Loghain answered.

"At least you'll earn some gold from it, Loghain" Bryce said and smiled encouraging towards Loghain.

"If it were only my own gold I worried about, it would all be fine and well. Unfortunately I still have no idea how we're suppose to finance the entire ordeal. My region has to be paid for the recourses and the workmanship that goes in to those ships. Watching a threat we're not actually certain as to how they would attack", Loghain frowned with a dry tone.

"I'd rather be somewhat more in debt, than be unprepared when the Orlesians sail onto our coast", Anora said.

"Indeed" Bryce added. "Our coastlands are vulnerable, you have to agree with me there, Loghain?"

"No, I don't", Loghain answered, "It's not the best course of action at the moment, wasting money and recourses building more ships"

"You'd rather just rely on foot soldiers, then?" Anora asked her father.

"Of course not!" Loghain leaned back in his chair, "We have elite troops of varying degrees all over Ferelden trained to handle warfare in each different region, should the Orlesians try to attack. From Gherlen's Pass or from the sea, we have a large amount of ballistae all over the coastline, even outside the main military bases. And our army is spread all over the coast and the pass, as well as having solders on stand-by in the surrounding Arlings and Bannorns. We _are_ well prepared and protected"

"But what if we could counteract such an assault without needing to let them onto Fereldan soil?" Anora retorted.

"Eventually they would set foot in our land, either way", Loghain gave his daughter a side wide glance, almost a warning, if Elissa interpreted it rightly, "Their fleet is so large it would take us a minimum of ten, fifteen years and vast amounts of gold to match their fleet alone. I find it completely wasteful and utterly incompetent to try and best them out on the waters, when we have one of the best land armies in all of Thedas who could hold them back from even entering the Kingdom further than the beaches for months", Loghain leaned in against the table and put his elbows down has set his eyes on his daughter, his chin leaning on his knuckles. "But now we have decided on three more ships and may they serve us well, guarding the coast"

"How many ships _do_ we have? I know we have two in Highever, with a total of 200 soldiers manning them in times of crises, excluding the regular and elite soldiers of course", Elissa asked.

"All in all", Loghain looked at her, his pale eyes tired but at the same time still as piercing, "Ferelden has 32 military ships, of which ten are used as trading ships, but during wartime they are pulled back into the military", Loghain reached out and drank the last of his white wine and cleared his throat.

"So, that means we'll soon have 35 ships. What differences will these three new ones do?" Elissa asked.

"Instead of 32 ships, we'll have 35 – and some Maker damn quiet in the Landsmeet", king Maric leaned over the table and whispered.

Elissa couldn't help but to laugh at the King's comment and Bryce immediately tried to hush her, Bann Alfstanna sat four chairs down from him and probably hadn't overheard the king, but – it was still a possibility. Still, it made Loghain smile to himself as he leaned back into his chair again.

It was a strange feeling sneaking around the palace like a besotted teenager, but then again, Elissa was a besotted teenager and to be completely honest, Loghain never really had the chance to be one. Elissa had grown on him, he started to feel warm whenever he was around her in a way he hadn't felt since Celia, but this was even more intense. Perhaps it had to do with his age, or the vast amount of time since he allowed himself to feel something even close to this. Of course he had lain with women after he abandoned Celia and since her death, but that was more about a physical release and nothing to do with feelings. Sometimes, he'd turned to copulation only to see if he actually could feel something other than the taste of ashes and death at the touch of a woman.

Celia kept haunting him and he'd always felt dirty and disgusted afterwards. He hadn't even wanted to kiss most of the women he slept with after Celia, but Elissa, he wanted to drown in her lips and feel her soft skin against his own and Celia didn't haunt him when he was with her. It almost felt like Celia had given her blessing, letting him feel something else than guilt and disgust again.

"Where's your study?" She had giggled while she stumbled just before him in the long corridors of the palace. He was right behind her, her hips swaying as she held her hands out, touching the walls as he walked.

"Just keep going forward", Loghain smiled towards her, "And try not to fall on your way", he smiled to himself, watching her take step after step. Maker, she was beautiful as she moved. Like a curvy goddess with her hair spilling down her back and her arms reaching out, guiding her way.

"What? You wouldn't catch me?" She smirked and stopped, leaning against the stonewall.

"I'd try" Loghain said and pushed her further, "Keep going"

"I'd I _try/I_ " She imitated him teasingly, "Maker, such a gentleman"

"Hm", Loghain smiled and caught one of her dark curls in his hand, "It's in here, to the right"

"In here?" Elissa asked and pushed the door to his study open.

Elissa stood at his bookshelf and inspected the books he had in his study, as he lit some candles to rid them of the total darkness in the room. This part of the palace was almost completely abandoned due to the dinner in the central part of the palace. When she reached his collection of maps, rolled up and tucked into the shelves, he turned towards her, carefully watching her fingers as she traced the edges of the old parchments.

"By Andraste, you have a lot of maps. Are all these scrolls maps?" She asked Loghain, looking over her shoulder towards him.

"Yes"

"Do you collect them? I can't imagine even a king needs these many maps", her eyes were wide as she crouched and picked one up.

"I do, I've always found them fascinating", Loghain poured wine into two metal mugs.

"I see", he could see her smile as she pulled one out over the table, "I've always found them very beautiful, but I'm awfully bad at reading maps, I have to say"

"Is that so?" Loghain breathed, walking over to her, "Didn't you pay attention during your tutoring?"

"Well, in my defence, master Fengal, who tutored me, was dreadfully boring"

"I hope you don't find me a dreadfully boring tutor?"

"If you intend to teach me how to read maps the same way you tutor me in combat, I'm a bit afraid for my life, my Lord", Elissa smiled as she tried to hold back her laughter, hissing as he touched her shoulder carefully.

"It's effective", Loghain smirked and gave her one of the mugs with wine, "Let me see which map you picked up" he said and splayed his hand over the parchment spread out over his desk. "Ah yes, this is a map over the Hinterlands, part of the southern Bannorn. It used to be an entire Arling, now it's been split up under several Bannorns and one Arling", Loghain traced the roads with his finger, leaning his chin against her shoulder whilst doing so, "Here's Redcliffe, for example", he pointed at a small village marked out with the Guerrin family crest.

"How long has the Guerrin's held Redcliffe, since their crest is on this map?" Elissa asked.

"Oh, a few ages at least, I don't know precisely", Loghain sighed, his warm breath spilling out over her exposed skin.

"Didn't the Guerrin's submit themselves to the Empire?"

"At first, they did, yes. But when Maric's mother, Queen Moira came to power, Arl Rendorn Guerrin was convinced by her to join the Rebellion. He fought during the Rebellion with Queen Moira and then later acted as a leader during the Rebellion after Moira was murdered. That's how we…" he harrumphed, which made Elissa frown, "Maric, met Rowan"

"But then Rendorn betrayed you at the battle of West Hill?"

"Yes, he'd promoted me to commander of the Rebel forces and I was to lead a division during the assault of the castle of West Hill, but it was an Orlesian trap"

"It's strange how a woman like Rowan could come from a family so genetically destined to be bastards", Elissa murmured as she studied the map.

"It seems to come with age in the male part of the Guerrin-family" Loghain scowled.

Loghain couldn't help but to breathe in her scent as he stood behind her, his chin leaned against her shoulder while she studied the map of the Hinterlands. He sank his left hand into her hair and moved her curls to one of her shoulders, revealing her pale and fair neck. As she was early developed, but of smaller statue, he had to lean down slightly to kiss her neck and he put his arm around her waist. She responded by leaning back towards him and taking a deep breath.

"You calm me, in a very notable way", Loghain whispered as he took a breath into her hair.

"I know", she said and smiled. She then turned around and put her arms up against his shoulders, reaching up to Loghain's lips, standing on her toes as kissed him. Loghain lifted her by her hips up on his desk so she wouldn't have to stand on her toes.

It was as if she had stilled all his worries about marrying her, about her wasting her life away with someone far too old for her. Her eyes seemed so content and she had such a calming effect on him, as if she completely wiped away all stress and all his worries when she was close to him. Perhaps it was selfish of him to let himself have her, but she had willingly given herself to him. Not sexually, not yet, but in every other physical and mental way. Right now, it was enough for Loghain to just touch her and kiss her. He couldn't compel himself to even try and reach under her dress, even though his body wanted him to. He restrained himself. He didn't want to violate her in that way, not just yet – because then and there, it felt like it would be a violation of her tender and soft flesh.

He wanted to be able to make love to her, in a way she deserved, in a way she would enjoy. And given their social status, it would be devastating if she became with child this long before they were married. When Loghain grew up, it was common among the farmers to live together as if they were married, when they were only engaged. It wasn't anything strange about that, but since at least Elissa was a pure blooded noble, even carrying royal blood, it would be highly scandalous if she fell pregnant with Loghain's child as a newly engaged 14 year old, from a marriage most saw as only political.

But it wasn't political, not anymore. _It definitely wasn't political_.

 _Damn you Maric._


	9. 8

_9_ _th_ _Kingsway, 9:24_

 _Denerim_

 _"_ Now you are bound one to the other, with a tie not easy to break. Grow in wisdom and love; that your marriage will be strong, that your love will last – in this life and beyond _"_

Elissa watched from Estri's side as the Revered Mother of the Denerim Chantry read the prayer over Bann Renhold and Estri's tied together hands and she couldn't help but to feel nauseous. The Mother talked about love, while Estri was being forced to marry a man three times her age that she was disgusted by. Sure, he seemed kind enough, but it just wasn't right. She had been forced to share her blood with this man, whose son was almost twice her own age. _Bone of my bone, blood of my blood_. Elissa could understand if you married someone you didn't love, for political reasons. Her own betrothal started like that, but it had evolved, thankfully. However Elissa knew that Estri felt nothing but disgust for the man who stood in front of her. And he was literally tied to him now until he died. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long. He was fat, drank too much and hardly ever exercised.

Estri was beautiful as she stood there in her simple white silk dress of traditional Fereldan cut and a long thin veil reaching down to the stone floor. She wore a diadem of beautiful jewels put together like small flowers and leaves, and the belt hanging from her hips had the same small flower-jewels. Both the Fereldan woman and the man wore their ceremonial knife, but it was the father of the daughter who cut up their wrists during the tying-ceremony, with his own knife. If the father wasn't alive, it was her brother, or another male relative.

The Chantry was full of nobles and Maric was in attendance and sat in the front row on the bride's side with Cailan, Anora and Loghain. Beside them Landra, Estri's mother sat and Estri's brother Dairren. Elissa's parents, brother and his fiancée sat in the pew behind the King. Loghain looked stoic, mostly staring down onto his boots with his elbows on his knees, Cailan kept fidgeting with something and Maric just stared straight in front of himself with his arms crossed over his chest, probably waiting for this whole painful ordeal to be over so he could start drinking. The only one in that company who seemed to be able to behave royally was Anora who sat with her back straight and hands in her lap, though her face was as stoic as her father's. The entire Chantry was filled with people who looked more like they were attending a funeral and not a wedding. The only one who looked somewhat happy was Bann Renhold – even Habren looked rather miserable, possibly imagining herself in the same situation.

Elissa held Estri's flowers and was her witness. Bann Renhold's witness was the Bann of Lothering, Eirik Lethrwyn. They were both to sign the marriage certificate after the ceremony. Elissa had been dressed in a similar dress as Estri, only less lavish and without the wail or flowery diadem. She wore a much simpler diadem with braided silver-strands and small white gems. On her shoulders she had a fox-fur to keep her warm in the cold Chantry, she couldn't wait until she could sweep herself into her furry cape and then warm herself up with some wine at Bann Renhold's estate were the celebrations were to be held.

 _"_ As they go, may they know every love that was shown. And as life it gets shorter, may their feelings grow. Wherever they travel, wherever they stay; Maker bless this couple, who marry today _"_

Finally Elissa took a breath she had forgotten to take for what felt like an eternity. Estri took her flowers from Elissa and she could see that Estri looked terrified and she tried to give her a comforting smile, but she was terrified for Estri as well. Bann Renhold and Estri walked out of the Chantry while the Sisters spread incense and chanted. Elissa stood there, up on the wide dais of the altar and watched her friend painfully walk away. Then the Revered Mother waved for her to come forward to sign the marriage certificate and so she did, her handwriting unusually shaking. She had been so touched by Estri's fear that her whole body felt filled with anxiety. _Poor Estri_. And in a few days she was leaving for Highever again, so she wouldn't even have much time to visit Estri, trying to comfort her during her first time as a wife. Elissa could feel an ache roar through her stomach at the thought and her eyes wanted to tear up, but she couldn't cry tears of dread on her best friends wedding, she just couldn't.

Eleanor watched her daughter sign the certificate with the Revered Mother. Just before that, while Bann Renhold and Estri had walked out, Elissa had a miserable look in her eyes. Eleanor recognized that look from her own youth, several of her close friends had to marry men much older than themselves. Men that were mean and treated them badly. At least Bann Renhold wouldn't treat Estri badly. Eleanor knew he was a kind man and her and Bryce both had known him since the Rebellion when they themselves had married. The girl would get a secure future with him, if somewhat boring until the old dolt died, anyway. It was the way of life, in a way. The burden of women, to be married off to older men and wait for them to die. Hopefully, she hadn't just sent her only daughter into the same boring mess.

Eleanor had waited down by the entrance of the Chantry with Elissa's cape. Waiting for her to finish with the signing and then try and comfort her. But when she was done, she went straight down to Loghain who had waited in the front row for her. Eleanor watched how he brought her into his embrace and stroked her hair, and she couldn't help but to feel a warm feeling spreading through her. They really seemed to begin to become close, no matter the difference in age between them. She had been afraid she'd sealed Elissa's fate to something that in the end would harm her, considering how Bryce still walked around whining about Elissa's betrothal to Loghain.

As Loghain let go from his embrace, it seemed Elissa had been unable to keep her tears away and he wiped away some of the coal around her eyes that had began to run down her cheeks. Maker, she looked older, even when she'd been crying, Eleanor thought. And she'd never seen Loghain this gentle. She'd only met him in the company of his late wife once, just when the Rebellion ended and before Loghain and Celia were married. They were only engaged when they moved into the Gwaren castle after Celia had begun handling the rebuilding of it. She was pregnant with Anora then and Eleanor and Bryce had come to Gwaren just a year after Loghain had received the Teyrnir. Celia had been a delightful woman, very tender and slim, much like Anora but also very quiet. She seemed hard to get close to and Loghain was even harder, Eleanor had watched him hold Celia once, when he had presented her with a room for her to paint in. But during those three weeks that Eleanor and Bryce was in Gwaren, she never once saw them kiss or hold each other's hands.

The tenderness she witnessed in the Chantry between Loghain and her daughter was beautiful. She couldn't find another word to describe it.

Elissa saw her mother watch her and Loghain's embrace from the back of the Chantry. She was waiting for her with her lovely, warm cape in her hands. Elissa looked up at Loghain and gave him a small smile and he nodded.

"My darling girl, I know how hard it is to watch these things", Eleanor said and stroked her daughters arm, "I've seen many friends marry into similar situations, but most of them have turned out quite good", Eleanor swept the cape over Elissa's shoulders and Elissa buttoned it at her throat and lifted her hair up from under the cape. "I'm sure you've seen your fair share as well, Loghain?"

"I have," Loghain looked over to Eleanor.

"I just want to stay in Denerim for a while and make sure she's all right", Elissa said, "I'm well aware that Bann Renhold is a kind man, but you should have seen the fear in Estri's eyes when she took the flowers"

"I did see, love" Eleanor sighed and gave Elissa one of those comforting smiles only a mother can give, "I could talk to Bryce and see if I could stay here with you for a few more weeks, so you can look after Estri"

"Thank you, mama", Elissa nodded, "Now, I might need some wine"

"You're not the only one, dear", Eleanor smiled and glanced at Loghain, who gave her a neutral look in return.

Elissa couldn't believe Bann Loren and Landra left Estri so soon after her horrible wedding, only a day after the horrible thing, to be all alone with Bann Renhold. Elissa could only imagine how she would feel herself if she was in Estri's place. She would have wanted at least one friend close by, in case something happened. When Elissa talked to her back in Bann Renhold's estate, she seemed very glad about the fact that Elissa would try and stay in Denerim a little longer. Bann Renhold's estate was only a few houses down from the Cousland Estate in the market square in High Town, so they could easily run between the houses.

"At least it's a very beautiful ring", Elissa smiled as she inspected Estri's finger.

"That's always something, isn't it?" Estri answered ironically. "Maker, I need to start drinking if I'm going to get through the consummation"

"I'll help you, at least with the drinking part", Elissa tried to smile, but the thought made her heart hurt and her stomach ache as she sat on the windowsill with Estri. Elissa waved at a servant and asked for strong wine. The servant first looked at them with a questionable look, but then glanced at Estri and nodded complying.

"It'll be all right, Estri", Elissa said and stroked her arm, "Just try to think about something else and let him get on with it"

"That's the only way, isn't it? It has to be done, after all"

"I'm afraid so, Elissa frowned and looked down at her hands. She felt so helpless and frustrated about her being unable to help Estri. "You don't have to look at him, at all. Just try to think of something nice, pretend he's…I don't know, Nathaniel Howe, or Cailan. They're nice to look at, no?" Elissa laughed a little and Estri smiled.

"That…They are, yes", Estri nodded.

The servant returned with a whole bottle of strong, sweet wine that tasted of raisins and alcohol and Elissa poured up a large glass for Estri and one for herself.

"What do you want to drink to?" Elissa asked.

"Anything but Bann Renhold" Estri smiled one of those forced smiles, trying to push back her tears.

"We could drink to friendship… And women. Women get too few toasts in my opinion", Elissa said and raised her glass, "To strong steadfast women, not giving in to weak men trying to control their lives. Remember that, Estri. I _Not letting them take your life from you/I_ "

"To strong women and friendship", Estri raised her glass and nodded to Elissa and then they both downed the entire glass of strong wine in one go. "Keep them coming, for Maker's sake"

"You're going to be fast asleep before the dinner", Elissa laughed.

"That's the plan, is it not?" Estri answered with a bitter smile.

Loghain leaned back against a stonewall in Bann Renhold's large living room and watched as Elissa helped Estri drown her sorrows with what looked like very strong wine. _That's going to hurt tomorrow_. He'd better keep an eye on her during the evening, the sun hadn't even set yet and they had already consumed what seemed like more than half of the bottle the poor servant had brought them. At least Estri had started to giggle at what seemed to be Elissa explaining something, gesticulating greatly and he could hear the peaks of her voice over on his side of the room even though the entire bottom floor was filled with people.

"It's a right sad mess this, isn't it?" Anora stood beside her father and watched Estri and Elissa as well.

"Mm" Loghain kept looking at Elissa, leaning slightly closer to his daughter.

"How do you think Elissa feels, I mean…" Anora seemed to hesitate.

"About me?"

"I didn't mean to suggest-"

"It's all right Anora, it's a just question considering-" Loghain took a breath as he watched Elissa, "She seems content"

"I rather got the feeling she's _more_ than just content", Anora smirked.

"So it seems" Loghain twisted his lips slightly as Elissa turned and smiled towards him.

"Is that…Strong wine? Where did they find that?" Anora lifted her eyebrows, "I think I might join them", she smiled and pushed herself off of the wall, "I'll see you later, papa" Anora kissed Loghain on his cheek and smiled as she walked over to Estri and Elissa.

 _Great, another one to keep my eyes on this evening, as if it couldn't get any better._

During the dinner, Estri seemed to have some difficulty keeping her wits about her, and she wasn't the only one – both Elissa and Anora sat giggling like half-wits. Bryce rolled his eyes several times during the evening and Cailan, Fergus and Oriana mostly seemed to be amused by the giggling gaggle of girls.

"So, Lady Cousland and Lady Mac Tir, care to share what's so amusing?" Maric smiled and leaned in over the table towards Elissa and Anora who sat beside each other and picked at their food.

" _No_ ", Elissa answered while trying to keep a straight face, certainly not looking Maric's way. Anora simply shook her head, casting Elissa side-wide glances while trying to keep herself from giggling.

"Well, it's obviously something", Cailan glanced with curious eyes at his father and then back at the girls.

" _Obviously_ " Maric answered smiling, finally meeting Elissa's eyes. Then she started giggling again and Anora soon followed. "Those two, Maker, they're acting like five year olds tonight. Bryce, what's with this daughter of yours? She's got the giggles"

Bryce just shrugged and looked confused.

"I believe it's wine", Loghain said in a hushed voice.

"Oh, but they drink wine all the time, I don't understand how they could get these kind of giggles from just _wine_ -" Maric stopped for a moment to inspect Elissa and Anora, and then he looked further down at the almost asleep Estri, "Ah, yes, of course. _Wine_ ", Maric sighed and leaned back in his chair, "Might need to bring out the buckets tonight!" Both Elissa and Anora cracked out in a roaring laughter at Maric's comment.

"Elissa, calm yourself!" Bryce hissed and Elissa only covered her mouth while keeping up the giggling. Loghain didn't even try to do something about Anora, unless she puked over the table.

The desserts were eaten standing or sitting in the living room by the two large fireplaces in the Tafner Estate. Bann Renhold had to hold Estri up beside him, but even though she was so drunk she could hardly stand, he hadn't been able to bend the goblet out of her hand. Loghain hadn't seen Anora, Elissa, Fergus or Oriana for the last hour. Neither had he seen Nathaniel Howe, Dairren Eremin or Cailan, they had been raving about the estate just after the dinner ended, but suddenly it was almost too quiet. Loghain decided it was best to take a look around the estate, just to make sure they hadn't snuck out to the Gnawed Noble – or accidentally died in a collective overdose of laughter.

He excused himself and left the large living room, venturing into the hall. It was quiet from raving youngsters and he continued into the kitchen area and the dining hall, there it was also quiet. The back garden was empty, as was the servants quarters, aside from the servants who hadn't seen either of the Cousland children or Anora or Cailan. _Damn it. Have they snuck out_? Loghain thought. It's not as if they were unprotected with Fergus, Cailan, Nathaniel and Dairren – but still, Denerim during night time is not a good place for Anora, Oriana or Elissa.

Suddenly, he could hear laughter from the basement and it sounded like Anora's laughter. She had a very specific laughter that you seldom got to actually hear and at the sound of it, Loghain felt a relieve inside him. Loghain decided to check on them and walked down the stony stairs. It was getting late in any case and Loghain didn't feel like staying long enough to see poor Estri getting dragged up to the private quarters to be more or less raped by her husband.

He found the youngsters down in the basement were they had lit some candles, seemingly playing cards and drinking wine. It's possible they got so depressed from the sight upstairs they retreated down here just to get away for a while. However, Elissa was not with them.

"Fergus, where's Elissa?" Loghain asked with stern, too sober eyes.

"Uh, well", Fergus looked around himself, his eyes glazed over from the wine, "She should be around here somewhere, she needed to, well, relieve herself", Fergus said and cleared his throat and Anora giggled, drunk as she was.

"Mm", he frowned, his eyes falling on his daughter, "Anora, I was thinking of leaving soon" Loghain watched his daughter as she sat on the stone ground beside Cailan.

"Oh, I'm having a marvellous time father, I can leave with Cailan and Maric if you want to leave now, if that's all right?" Anora looked up at him with her large blue eyes.

"I'll let Maric know", he nodded at Anora and turned to make his way up along the dark basement corridors.

"Oh, by the Maker!" a familiar voice sounded and Loghain stopped in his tracks up the stairs, "You look like a ghost coming up the dark stairs!" It was Elissa's voice and as he looked down the stairs she was on her way down again, "You almost gave me quite a scare" she smiled warmly to him and walked down to get closer to him.

Loghain reached out and stroked her cheek, "That sounds forbidding"

"How so?" she said and put her arms around his shoulders, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

"I don't know" Loghain answered as he stroked her curling hair, "Are you feeling well?"

"Ugh, I don't know to be honest", Elissa sighed, "I saw Estri upstairs on the couch with Renhold, makes me nauseous"

"Hm", he hugged her closer, but remained quiet.

"I'm glad I have you, you're so much more than just _kind_ ", Elissa whispered into his neck and Loghain felt an ache in his stomach, an ache for Elissa. For how upset she'd been this whole day and how hard it must have been for her. "And you wouldn't force me like that, would you?"

"I'd never want to hurt you", Loghain whispered back as he kissed her hair, "I'd never force you to do anything you didn't want"

He could feel her clinging to him even harder and her cheeks grew warmer as she sobbed, just once. He didn't try to comfort her as there was no point. She'd most likely have to go through this at least once more. The world was not fair, this Loghain knew very well and girls from noble families almost never married out of love. Loghain had been lucky with Celia. It was some kind of love. But then again, they weren't nobles, not exactly. They had found each other, married without pressure – and still it turned to shit. This, this thing that he shared with Elissa, was also some kind of love. He wanted to protect her from everything that could possibly hurt her, but he could hurt her and he wouldn't been able to protect her from himself. He just couldn't. He was all too selfish to let her go now. As he held her in his arms, he knew that he'd never be able to abandon her. She was far to precious and he wouldn't make that mistake again.


	10. 9

23rd Kingsway, 9:24

Denerim

Elissa had stayed with her mother in Denerim since Estri's wedding, looking after her and visiting her every day. Estri had spent some nights in the Cousland Estate with Elissa, which Bann Renhold didn't mind. From what Elissa had seen and from what Estri had told her, he _was_ kind. He had waited several days for Estri to be ready to consummate the marriage and hadn't forced himself on her. His wife had died in childbirth with his son over 20 years ago and he hadn't remarried since, but his son had been sickly his whole life and so Bann Renhold needed heirs. Heirs that Estri could provide. She had told Elissa that he at times could be harsh in his tone, but she thought it was because he still missed his late wife, after all those years.

Staying a bit longer in Denerim had also allowed for Elissa to spend even more time in the company of Loghain. They had been to Fort Drakon at least two times a week for sparring and he had let her train with ser Cauthrien, one of his finest commanders. Ser Cauthrien was absolutely fierce and Elissa had loved her. She didn't coddle Elissa in the least, just kept pushing and pushing. She was almost worse than Loghain. But, nobody was as harsh as Loghain when it came to sparring and he was faster than ser Cauthrien. Loghain was the commander of the royal guards, with ser Cauthrien the one who mainly trained them and she had shown Elissa around the entire building, even suggesting they'd go up to the top roof, but Elissa had refused as she hated heights and Fort Drakon was the tallest building in all of Denerim, if not Ferelden.

Today, Elissa had spent the afternoon training with Loghain. After the training Loghain had taken Elissa to his private quarters that he had in Fort Drakon. A privilege of being the commander, he'd said as they walked the long stairs up to the fifth floor. Had that been with a humorous tone? She couldn't really tel. Finally inside his quarters, he had something like a small home. There was a bedroom, a study and an armoury. His quarters were filled with paintings and tapestries. One of the tapestries showed Haelia Cousland drive out the Werewolves and another of Andraste as she conquered the Tevinter Imperium. The paintings he had were of a field in Oswin, the sea view from Gwaren and one with both Maric and Rowan in full ceremonial armour, both of them. He had shields hanging on the walls, not only in the armoury but also in his bedroom and study. In his study, just above his desk hung the shield he'd used during the Rebellion. It was worn and had large gashes in the metal, but you could still see the two dancing mabaris on the worn shield.

In the armoury he also had the large and heavy silverite armour he'd claimed as a trophy of victory from the Orlesian commander when the rebels he commanded won the battle of River Dane. Seeing the actual armour had startled Elissa, since it was absolutely massive. She had joked with Loghain and said it was good he wasn't a short man, then he'd never been able to wear it. However, Loghain hadn't worn it since the Rebellion ended and he wasn't sure he wanted to wear it again, even if it'd probably still fit quite well.

"Where's this sword from? It's looks very used and worn. Is it from the Rebellion as well?" Elissa asked as she pointed at a large long sword hanging on the wall in the study. It had a simple design, almost ancient Fereldan with metal braids surrounding a mabari's head on the pommel.

"It's from before the Rebellion. It was my father's" Loghain took the sword down and seemed to weigh it in his palms.

"Beautiful craftsmanship", Elissa said as she touched the pommel lightly with her fingers.

"My father had it since I was a child. He gave it to me before he died", Elissa knew by now how Loghain's father died. At the hands of the Orlesians, trying to protect Maric. It had been his father's dying wish that Loghain would protect Maric, and Elissa thought that he certainly had done well by his father. Loghain seldom spoke of his mother however, he really seldom spoke of anything to be truthful, but he had started to open up more, the more their relationship grew.

"I could use something strong, to dull out the pain from the sparring", Elissa smiled "And a wash, to be honest, I must reek"

"You and me both" Loghain smirked and Elissa smiled at him, all pearly whites as her darkly blue eyes shone. "I'll have someone fetch some hot water for you to have a quick wash"

"There's wine and whiskey in that cupboard over there", Loghain pointed to a large wooden cupboard against the wall in his study.

"What, you're not serving me?" Elissa smiled at him teasingly as she sauntered over to the cupboard. Loghain only gave her a jokingly harsh look as he turned and walked out into the large hallway outside his quarters.

Elissa yanked the cupboard-doors open and found whiskey, wine, mugs and glasses for whiskey – and _more_ bloody maps. _Andraste's arse, how many maps does that man have_?

She decided whiskey was a bit too strong. She had just started to learn how to keep it down and wine seemed like the more sensible choice. It seemed to be red wine from Antiva. It was almost impossible to find Orlesian wine in Ferelden. Mostly it had to do with Orlesian things in general not being very popular, considering almost all adults over the age of 25 could remember the Rebellion and the orlesian oppression clearly, but Fereldans seemed to prefer the sweet Antivan wines, instead of the somewhat sour Orlesian ones.

Elissa grabbed the closest bottle of wine and two mugs and sat down in the sofa close to the fireplace. He had a small group of armchairs and a sofa in the corner of his study, with a small table just in front of the sofa. She poured some wine into one of the mugs and curled up into the sofa, took a deep breath and felt her whole body relax as she sipped sweet and spicy wine. She had already freed herself from her leather jacket she used during sparring and only wore tight leather trousers and her shift tucked into her trousers. Loghain had worn something similar, but had started to wear at least some armour after the first time they sparred and she had a shield in her hand. Elissa had dropped her jacket and gauntlets here somewhere, but right now she was too exhausted and relaxed to even care.

"I told them to bring the hot water into my bedchamber, you can have a wash there, in private. They'll bring up your clothes as well", Loghain said as he returned to the study.

"Thank you, that's very kind", Elissa smiled from the sofa, looking up at her fiancée returning.

"Is it?" Loghain smirked. He seemed to smile more and more when they were alone, a good sign, Elissa thought.

Loghain sat himself down in the sofa beside Elissa and poured himself some wine. He always sat in a very confident way, like he was the most natural thing in the world; his legs widespread, or as Maric often sat, with an ankle resting on his knee. Elissa had noticed that Loghain and Maric sat down in a very similar way. Her father was different, he often sat with his knees crosses. When Loghain stood, he often stood with his legs slightly apart and his arms crossed above his chest, it gave a very hostile impression – even though he necessarily wasn't hostile. Perhaps he'd been a soldier for too long, it had become a part of him, the outward hostility. He could stand like that, with his arms crossed and with a frown, but still smile with his eyes at Elissa. She had started to notice the small changes in his face, specifically his eyes. He spoke with his eyes more often than not. He could often be completely stoic, not moving a muscle in his face, but his eyes spoke.

"Of course, as long as you don't take advantage", Elissa glanced at Loghain with a teasing look as she took a sip of wine. He tangled her hair with his fingers and got a soft look in his eyes.

"Is it the day after tomorrow that you return to Highever?"

"Yes", Elissa turned her face to Loghain, "We need to prepare for Fergus' wedding. Are you attending?"

"He's to be my brother-in-law, so yes"

"Good, then I won't need to wait too long to see you", she smiled.

"You don't" Loghain stroked her jawline.

"Commander Mac Tir", a soldier stood in the doorway to the study and nervously cleared his throat.

"Speak", Loghain answered without turning his head or removing his hand from Elissa's hair.

"I've placed a pot of hot water in your bedchamber, with clean cloths and the clothes you requested. Did you need anything else?"

"No, you're dismissed"

"Thank you, commander", the soldier crossed his arms over his chest with a bow and left. Loghain didn't take his eyes off of her, though Elissa looked after the soldier who walked away with determined steps. She then repositioned herself slightly, looking back at Loghain.

"I should have a wash", Elissa said and looked down on her damp shift, sticking to her chest from sweating.

"I enjoy this look on you", Loghain said and scratched the back of her neck with his fingers.

"Dirty dog", Elissa laughed quietly and leaned in to kiss him. She could feel his hand tighten around her neck as he pulled her closer to him an answered her kiss. Elissa

stretched out her leg over his and pushed herself closer to him, stroking his chest through his thin linen tunic. Under the fabric she could feel his chest hair. She thought that it must be the same colour as the hair on his arms, black. Loghain had a very curious hair colour, she had never seen anyone else with such raven hair before and if you said the words "raven hair" in combination with "commander", there probably weren't a single person in southern Thedas who didn't think about Loghain. It was strange, because he wasn't dark in any other way. His eyes where so lightly blue they were almost white and his skin was as pale as her own, but his hair was raven black.

She felt his hand squeezing her hip and soon she as if it was some sort of natural occurrence, like a stream flowing or the thunder roaring, found herself straddling him. Her hands buried in his long, silky hair and her lips devouring his. His hands traced her spine from her shoulders down to the curve of her back, stroking her hips and following them down to her bottom. She was burning inside, a heat it felt as if she almost couldn't control and she couldn't help herself as she moaned when he traced her body with his hands.

She pushed her groin against his and the hardness was there again, just as it had been when they kissed in his bed. When she'd spent the whole afternoon stroking his hair and forehead, trying to stroke away his aching pain.

Loghain let out a groan when she pushed herself against him and his breathing was heavy, just like hers. She had no idea what so ever, what was really happening. She only knew it felt right, as if it was the most natural thing to do and she wanted, _needed_ to do it. She longed for this, had longed for this since they first kissed and perhaps even before they kissed, even though she had no idea what it would really feel like. The intensity, the heat, the burning feeling, shooting out from her abdomen, reaching her entire body. How the feel of his touch made her tremble and ache for him. How his breathing seemed to hitch when she couldn't help but to let out a small moan.

He then turned her and laid her on her back in the sofa, pushing himself down over her, between her spread legs. The sofa was slim, so one of her legs fell over the edge and rested on the floor. She felt the heat from his body, along with the weight of him over her as he kissed her neck and stroked her still bound up breasts.

Then, he seemed to freeze and stopped. Elissa directly thought she'd done something wrong. Something you weren't suppose to do, when you did _this_. Of course, she'd kissed boys before, but never this intensely, never this _close_. She'd never wanted to be this close to anyone before but Cailan, not really. She had fantasized about both Cailan and Loghain like this, but kissing aside, she'd never been with a man before.

"It feels as if I'm forcing you", Loghain's breathing was heavy and Elissa hadn't seen it before, but his eyes seemed almost panicked.

"How?" She asked and kissed his cheek, raking his hair back from his face with her fingers.

"Making you do something you might not be ready for, something we shouldn't do"

"Because we're not married?"

"Because your still _very_ young", Loghain said and rested his forehead against her chest.

"Yes, well, I might be young, that's true-"

"You might regret it", he spoke from her chest, still trying to catch his breath. He was hard, she could feel his hardness press against her right there, between her legs. She wasn't so foolish she didn't know what it was. She knew she wanted it, wanted to feel what it was like. To feel _him_.

"Maker's breath", she sighed, pushing at Loghain's shoulder, "I'm going to marry you. It's decided, and then what does it matter? Why would I regret it now, if not later?" Elissa clasped Loghain's head between her palms, stroking his hair.

"I don't want to force myself on you"

"You're not, Loghain" She kissed his hairline, "You're really not"

"This is your first?" His voice took on a different tone as he lifted his face from her chest, his lips pressing against her neck. She could feel his hot breath against her skin as he reached his arms underneath her, hugging her entire body close to him.

"Yes"

"You want me?" he groaned against her skin and Elissa nodded, moaning as he ground against her.

"I do"

"How much?"

"More than anything", she said, breathless and keening as his hips began moving against her. "I want you"

"And I you", he growled against her skin, biting into it and Elissa's breath hitched.

Loghain rose from her, beginning to undress her. He removed her greaves, her boots and unbuttoning her trousers. When he removed his tunic, he stretched out before, his muscles rippling before her underneath his pale skin and Elissa couldn't help but to reach out and touch him. His pale eyes had darkened, almost smouldering as he watched her. She could see all of him, his skin, his chest hair - how it spread up from his abdomen in a thin line over his stomach and then carefully spreading over his chest. His body was filled with both small and larger scars and as she stroked his chest, she could trace the scars with her fingertips. He had a large scar on his left hip, running up in a crooked angle up to his ribs. She then opened his belt and started to unbutton his trousers, when he pulled her shift over her head. She helped him to pull it off all the way. She then untied her bound up bosom, letting the long cloth fall around her. Loghain seemed to stare at her for a second, and at first, she thought it was because something was wrong again, but before she even had a chance to ask, he laid himself above her and kissed her. His kisses had gone from begin soft but intense, to passionate and almost aggressive as his fingertips traced the entirety of her body from her shoulders, down over her breasts, her hips and her thighs. He softly spread her legs open a bit more and stroked her were it burned most intensely. It felt so strange to have someone else touch her there. It felt _good_ , but strange. It felt so very different when she did it to herself.

"Are you sure you want this?" He said as he stroked her hair and kissed her softly.

"I'm _sure_ "

"It might hurt, since it's your first time"

"I know"

"Tell me if it hurts too much", his pale eyes pierced into hers and she nodded.

"I will", she kissed him and she could feel how he pulled down his trousers from his hips and then pressed himself against her. She could feel something hard, warm and blunt pressing against her, against her opening and she spread her legs even further. Loghain drew in a sharp breath and Elissa tugged at his hair, pulling his lips down against hers. He kissed her, letting his tongue swirl against her lips as he finally was able to press himself inside of her.  
She felt a stinging sensation, burning. Bad burning, as if something too large was forcing itself into something too small. He groaned as he pushed deeper into her, while Elissa had stopped being able to breath. She raked her nails into his skull and pulled away from his lips, a pained sound coming from her lips. There was something intense in his eyes, like burning ice and his jaw was completely clenched. Then he drew back a little, before he pushed back in again, not as slowly this time, but slow. This time it felt better, it didn't sting as much and the burning had stopped being completely unpleasant, it was simply burning.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes"

And she was all right. As his movements started to increase, it felt better and better, and her uncontrolled moans came each time he pushed himself inside her. Hearing him groan and breathe heavier, made her want him more and more. When he kissed her at the same times as he moved quicker inside her, her stomach tingled in a way she'd never ever felt before and as he moved faster and faster, his kisses became deeper, almost swallowing her as he pressed inside and against her. Then, he let out a somewhat strained groan and pulled back from her and she felt a warm fluid spread out over her abdomen as he sank down over her again and kissed her, tenderly. He sighed as he kissed her and stroked her hair.

He then leaned back and pulled his trousers up on his hips again, sitting down in front of her on the sofa. He drew his hand through his hair and stroked her leg with his other hand. Elissa pulled her legs up a bit and met his gaze as he sat in front of her, leaning over the back of the sofa with his side.

"Was it as you imagined?" He asked while tracing her thigh with his fingertips.

"Yes…And no", Elissa said.

"The first time wasn't exactly as I had imagined it either" he smiled softly.

"Did it hurt for you too? I mean, the first time you did it?"

"No"

"Oh, well-"

"If it hurts for a man, then…There's something that's not right", Loghain chuckled softly, his fingers lingering on her thigh.

"But it hurts for women? That's not very fair, is it?"

"I don't think it hurts for all women, but it seems to be common"

"I see, Elissa bit her lower lip and looked up at Loghain, "Well, it's not like it hurt _all_ the time. Only when you entered"

"Hm", Loghain nodded, still watching her, his eyes having softened somewhat.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Mm"

"You said I'm very young, but… How old were you, the first time?" she had a slightly obstinate look about her when she asked that question.

"15"

"15? And you complain about me being young?" Now she merely felt annoyed, but Loghain seemed amused, still.

"I didn't complain about your age, Elissa. I wanted to make sure you knew what you wanted and-"

"Don't question me like that again, Loghain" She grabbed his hand and twined her fingers with his, "I know what I want"

"Yes", he leaned down, placing a soft kiss on one of her knees.

"By the way", she said and Loghain looked up from her knee, "Does that happen every time?" She pointed to the sticky and now drying fluid on her abdomen.

"Yes, most of the time"

"I thought you… Would, like, leave it _inside_ me? But I guess this means I wont become with child, right?"

"Hopefully not for some time, no", he gave her a wry smile, "Well, it seems you need that wash now"


	11. 10

2nd Firstfall, 9:24

Highever Castle

Elissa sat in the front pew of the Highever Chantry, as Mother Mallol read the last blessings over Fergus and Oriana, as they stood in front of the altar with their hands tied together. Now they were blood, family. The knot-tying ceremony was Elissa's favourite part of the wedding and she had really warmed to the thought of herself standing in front of the massive altar of the Denerim Chantry, tied together with Loghain, becoming _blood of his blood_. Becoming his. The feeling of being bought weren't there anymore with him, only a feeling of intimacy and a mutual understanding.

As the ceremony was done, just before they walked out together from the Chantry, Oriana and Fergus kissed. It wasn't of Fereldan tradition to kiss during the wedding ceremony, but Oriana had wanted it, since that's how it was done in Antiva. She'd told Elissa that she wanted at least something from her home country. Everything else was so _Fereldan_. None of her relatives had been able to come to Ferelden for the wedding, it took a week sailing from Antiva and Elissa couldn't even imagine how it would be to marry into a foreign family, in a country so far away from your own, and not even have your own family there.

Oriana had thought Elissa very sweet, when she expressed it to her. Oriana answered that she felt like the Couslands now were her family, and truly so. _As long as I have my baby sister close, it's a comfort_ , she had smiled while she braided Elissa's hair the day before the wedding. Oriana had really become like a sister. Even her annoying Antivan ways wasn't as annoying anymore and they could spend hours talking and sharing the most private things. She'd truly become a close friend to Elissa, and now she was truly a part of the family.

Oriana wore a lavish white silk dress, of Antivan fashion. They were slightly different from the Fereldan style of gowns, mainly having more loose fabric and a deeper décolletage. Oriana's dress had silver and gold pearls embroidered into peacock-like patterns, stretching up from the bottom of the gown and covering the skirt's flowing thin fabric. Her waist was marked by a thin golden belt with gemstones, wrapped three times around her – symbolising something of Antivan tradition. The gown itself had a veil that reached down over her shoulders, her back and dragged behind her for almost a yard. It was full of small white pearls. Oriana's straight dark hair had been pulled back and braided into a large bun in her neck and on her head she had a light lace veil that reached her shoulders. She didn't wear a Fereldan wedding diadem, instead a lavish necklace her father had sent, filled with pearls and gems, which completely covered her collarbones and throat. Oriana's family wasn't noble by blood. Few were in Antiva. However, she belonged to one of the richest merchant houses that by wealth and simple force ruled the entire country.

The gathered congregation in the Chantry rose as Oriana and Fergus left the ceremony together and Elissa smiled towards Loghain and Anora who sat on the first row on the other side of the Chantry, at the bride's side. King Maric had left for the Free Marchers a week back and Cailan remained in Denerim, trying to rule while his father was away on diplomatic business. The thought that Cailan had stayed in Denerim made Elissa feel a bit relieved, since he _was_ up to something and she couldn't help but to feel a bit too curious as to what he wanted. Loghain and Anora had arrived by carriage yesterday and Elissa had longed to see Loghain again, it had only been just over a month, but at this point she knew she was in love with him, even though Cailan lingered in the back of her mind. Even Bryce had started to warm up to the thought of their betrothal by now. It was probably as Eleanor had tried to explain; ' _It's always hard for a father to let go of his daughter to another man'_. Eleanor said it was easier for women, letting go of their children to others, since women possessed a slightly more rational mind when it came to their emotions. ' _Men can be like children in that aspect, not wanting to admit to the reality of things'_.

As the congregation started to slip out from the Chantry and following the bridal couple in a procession up to the castle, Elissa joined Anora and Loghain on their way back.

"That dress!" Anora sighed in admiration, "I never think I've seen the likes of it! It's gorgeous"

"Yes, the antivan dresses are very different from ours, aren't they?" Elissa smiled and tucked her arms into her furry winter-cape. The snow had started falling over the Highlands and every breath that was drawn turned into steam, rising in the air around them.

"Very much so", Anora pulled on her own cape, "Can you even buy them here in Ferelden? Perhaps there's some merchant in Denerim?" she looked at her father.

"It's possible to import such dresses, yes" Loghain nodded.

"I guess it's almost impossible to ask a Fereldan tailor to create something _that_ delicate" Anora sniggered.

"Surely I can talk to Oriana", Elissa said, looking at Anora, "Her father is, after all, an Antivan merchant. Perhaps he could send some of their dresses to Ferelden? He'd probably be delighted", Elissa smiled. "She had her father sent a midnight blue Antivan dress for me a few months ago before she arrived here"

"Wouldn't that be just marvellous?" She sighed dreamily. "But why haven't I seen you wear it?"

"It's very delicate, more suited for the summer", Elissa said, pulling on her furred glowes.

"Yes, I suppose their gowns aren't made for our Fereldan weather, are they?" Anora smiled, walking down the Chantry aisle.

Loghain enjoyed seeing Elissa dressed up for special occasions. She had a body that just seemed to suit perfectly with whatever gown she wore. She was a small person, but somehow she managed to look as regal as Anora or Eleanor as she strolled around with her long hair curling against the curve of her back. Anora's almost white hair was wavy and heavily braided and she wore a softly peach coloured dress, with white winter fur over her shoulders and a pearl diadem over her forehead. Elissa wore a Fereldan dress in black and white with her fox-fur over her shoulders. She only had one large Orlesian braid reaching around her hairline and a simple silver diadem with black stones on her forehead. She was beautiful. Loghain had to control his urges not to pull her into his arms and taking her away from all these people – he wanted her all to himself, if only to simply touch her soft warm skin and bury his nose in her thick curls.

The wedding festivities started as soon as they arrived at the Highever castle and both Bryce and Eleanor seemed happy as they officially introduced Oriana into the Cousland family, giving her a brooch with the Cousland crest as well as presenting her with her new name. _Oriana Lucia Loya Ruiz Cousland_.

Loghain had always thought the Antivan names sounded even stranger than their rolling and outdrawn language, he could never get his tongue to perfect the pronunciation of Antivan, even Orlesian was easier, banish the thought. He had been forced to allow Anora to be tutored in Orlesian, it was Celia's idea and she had been dead set on it being of grave importance, specially since Anora became betrothed to Cailan at the age of three.

Anora spoke Orlesian very well, or so he'd heard. Loghain couldn't understand much of the blasted language and to him, it was a matter of principle _not_ to learn it. Anora had also been tutored in Antivan, Imperial Tevinter and Common Marcher. She had a knack for languages and had enjoyed the tutoring much, even asking to learn ancient Fereldan and some Avvan native tongue.

As far as Loghain knew, the Cousland's hadn't been as enforcing with languages as Celia had been, but both Elissa and Fergus were tutored in Orlesian, Common Marcher and a small amount of Imperial Tevinter. Even Loghain had learned a small amount of Imperial Tevinter as an adult. It was necessary to be able to read and decipher historical accounts and some of the first explorations of the deep roads made during the Imperium's siege of southern Thedas. Loghain thought Imperial Tevinter was a strange tongue. It sounded like an extremely simplified and harsh but well pronounced mixture between Orlesian and Antivan. It was easy enough to pronounce, without the strange rolling sounds or back-of-the-throat sounds both Orlesian and Antivan had. It was more like Fereldan in that way.

Loghain, Elissa and Anora sat down in a small gathering of armchairs in the large Highever study and soon a servant arrived with hot cider spiced up with apple liquor and cinnamon. Even though the castle was being warmed up by sparkling fires in every room, the cold from outside sipped into the ancient castle, penetrating every corner of it, and Loghain watched as Elissa curled her fingers around the warm mug of cider. The winter months up here in the Highlands were indeed raw. It was as if the wet coldness penetrated every bone in your body. It was a kind of coldness unheard of in the south, even though they had a vast coastline even there. In Gwaren the cold was drier and more crystalized. A biting cold that seemed easier to handle as you could close it out by furs and warm clothing. The Highland cold seemed to penetrate everything, making the clothes damp and heavy.

Loghain leaned forward with his lower arms on his thighs and slowly sipped the warm cider, as he watched the newly wed couple receiving their gifts, smiling and laughing happily with shining eyes only on each other.

Eleanor could remember how Bryce and herself snuck around the camps of the Rebellion, hiding behind trees and bushes, stealing kisses and more when they had just fallen in love. It was a blessing during the utterly horrid situations of war. People died all around them and during the battles of Gwaren the conditions for the rebels had been awful. Not only having their prince and future king disappearing and whole division being betrayed by Orlesian spies and their highest commander at the battle of West Hill.

Eleanor had felt so lucky that she'd had Bryce's shoulder to lean on during those dark and miserable nights in the muddy army camps, while Loghain and Rowan had walked around with mud up to their knees, rowing, shouting in frustration and doing everything they could to keep the small amount of morale up, that was left. They were so close to having whole Ferelden under them, but then key persons of the Rebellion started turning against them and Maric, ever impulsive, had disappeared. It had been demoralizing and picking up from that hadn't been easy. At least she'd had Bryce, then.

Eleanor and Bryce and fallen in love during the hard times of war and their love was steadfast and kept Eleanor going, together with the victory at the River Dane and then during the last three years before the rebels laid siege to Denerim.

It gave her a warm feeling inside her as she had happened to catch a glimpse of Elissa and Loghain secretly kissing in a corner of the kitchen area, it seemed their political union had been transferred into love, even before their marriage, just as the union between Fergus and Oriana. It seemed to have gone faster than she could have imagined and Elissa was still so very young. If Bryce had seen it, he wouldn't have been happy and Eleanor supposed it was a good thing she'd been the one to witness the intimate situation.

The two of them had planned both their children's unions and it had been the right thing to do. Neither Bryce nor Eleanor had living parents when they met. They had all died due to age or to the Orlesians during the occupation and so they could allow themselves to marry out of love. It seemed to be merely pure luck that a young woman with Calenhad blood had fallen in love with the young Cousland heir. Of course, Bryce had tried to court her for quite some time before she gave in. He'd been so different from every other man she'd been around during her whole life. Eleanor, after all, came from a once blackened family of raiders who'd received a Bannorn as a curtsy through marriage and as such regaining the noble status. Her father had been a large man, in all senses. He was tall and broad with a deep voice and was truly more of a clan leader of the Storm Coast than a Bann. Her mother had been what they called a battle maiden in the Storm Coast. They were some of the fiercest warriors and part of an elite force of the most battle hardened women along the coast.

Bryce, however, was slim and tender. Still a good swordsman though, but he was more of a strategist and a bureaucrat than an actual warrior. He was kind and careful and gave a shy impression at first, but he'd grown on her and eventually she found herself in love with the sweet Teyrn. Eleanor couldn't help to smile to herself and as she turned around to leave the two lovers alone in the kitchen, she thought it somewhat ironic in a rather amusing way, that during the Rebellion Loghain had walked in on her and Bryce in an intimate moment. They had tried to sneak away from the main camp to be alone and from out of nowhere, the then commander of Eleanor's division, Loghain, had obliviously stepped out from the bushes with a bow in his hand. It turned out he'd been patrolling the woodlands around the camp with his guerrilla unit of Night Elves.

Loghain seemed to handle Elissa gently and carefully, at least from what Eleanor could see when they sat together in public. He sometimes put a hand on her shoulder and Eleanor could swear she saw Loghain smile from time to time when he was in the company of Elissa. She had definitely seen him smile slightly when she watched them kiss in the corner of the kitchen, as he had stroked her hair and whispered something to her. It seemed such an intimate situation Eleanor almost blushed for watching like a peeping tom instead of turning on her heel and leave. She had become so filled with relief and happiness at the same time, while watching them and she felt they'd done right by their daughter. She had been worried Elissa would feel as if she was being sold as a prize cattle to the highest bidder out of mere political reasons, but obviously it had started off well.


	12. 11

_10_ _th_ _Haring, 9:24_

 _Highever Castle_

"I'm sure everything's all right, you never know with messengers. Something might have been lost on the way or it could be a political gamble from the Orlesians, trying to demoralize Ferelden", Bryce rubbed his temples with a deep frown on his face as he sat at his desk in the Highever castle.

"But they say that his boat never even reached the Kirkwall docks", Eleanor paced back and fourth in front of Bryce's desk, clasping her hand over her mouth, her eyes ditressed.

"Was this sent from Denerim?" Fergus asked, holding the parchment out and looking at his father.

"Yes, the messenger arrived only moments ago, from Denerim. It has the royal seal", Bryce answered and sighed deeply. "I'll have to travel to Denerim at once, if it is as we suspect, a council of the Landsmeet will be called to organize the search"

"You don't think Loghain has started with that already?" Fergus asked.

"Of course he has, but he'll need the support of the Landsmeet to access the treasury and the royal funds, to even begin a search out on the Waking Sea", Bryce said and looked at his son. "How, _how_ can this be happening?"

"Has anyone told Elissa? Where is she?" Eleanor looked first at her husband and then at Fergus.

"I think she went out for a ride, just before the messenger arrived", Fergus said and stood up, "I'll see if she's returned, otherwise I'll ride out to collect her. Are you travelling to Denerim by yourself father, or would you like me to come with you?"

"You decide, but it would be good to have you by my side, son", Bryce nodded and twisted his lips.

 _8_ _th_ _Haring, 9:24_

 _Denerim Palace_

 _Damn you Maric. If your carelessness only could be contained to falling of horses or laughing in the wrong kind of company. Why do you have to disappear? Why do I always have to be the one being left behind to search for you? Damn you._

Loghain had dispatched messengers to all regions of Ferelden, calling all nobles to Denerim for a Landsmeet. The King, _Marker's arse, Maric_ , had gone missing at sea. His ship hadn't arrived in Kirkwall as planned. He seemed to never have reached the Free Marches at all. The messenger that had arrived at the Denerim Palace was sent from the Vael family of Starkhaven, from their Estate in Kirkwall. Maric was supposed to meet the Kirkwall Seneschal and the head of the Vael family to discuss trading treaties between the united states of the Free Marchers and Ferelden.

The interpreter looked at Loghain as he sat behind his desk in the Palace, trying to figure out where to even begin. He wanted to bash his head against his desk and scream. Why, _why_ did these things _always_ occur with Maric? It was as if he was destined to be a _pain_ and disappearing once every ten years, leaving his Kingdom to fend for itself. Or well, leaving _Loghain_ to fend for the Kingdom. _By himself_.

"Wünscht der General eine Nachricht an Kirkwall zurück?" The messenger asked in common marcher, looking at Loghain. Loghain sighed and looked at the interpreter with a tired raised eyebrow.

"He asks if you would like a message delivered back to Kirkwall", the interpreter said.

"Hm", Loghain rubbed his temples and pushed a parchment and a bowl of ink to the interpreter, "Write that we wish them to aid us in the search for the King, if they have the possibility. The Free Marches are our allies, after all and I know of no known Orlesian entanglement in neither Kirkwall nor Starkhaven"

The interpreter wrote the short message, in finer words, at least that's what Loghain hoped and gave it to him to sign it and seal it with the royal seal. Loghain then gave the messenger the small parchment.

"An den Seneschal und die Familie Vael in Kirkwall", Loghain said in rugged common marcher to the messenger.

"Sofort, General Mac Tir", The messenger bowed deeply and left Loghain's study, together with the interpreter.

Loghain was now tasked with starting to organize the search. He had called for a Landsmeet to be able to secure funds, but he couldn't send out larger parts of their army at sea. That would leave Ferelden in an even more vulnerable state. _If_ Maric's disappearance had something to do with Orlais, they couldn't risk pulling out several divisions of soldiers and their commanders from Ferelden to search the Waking Sea. What he could do, however, was travel himself, leaving the palace Seneschal, Cailan and Anora in charge, for the time being. But the search would take months, it could even take a year or more. But he _had_ to try and find Maric, he owed him that much. Maric was not only his King, but also his closest friend. One of the few ones he'd actually had.

Loghain could probably have the Landsmeet agree to send out three ships for the search and perhaps 100 royal naval soldiers, which would be more than enough. But it would be expensive. He could also hire mercenaries, but that would be equally expensive and two missing troops from the royal army wouldn't affect the military posts guarding the boarders of Ferelden. He would simply have to urge the Bannorns and Arlings close to the Orlesian boarder to stay alert and increase their own military surveillance. Of course that blasted Arl Eamon with his Orlesian whore of a wife could have something to do with Maric's disappearance, but why would he? He is Maric's brother-in-law and no matter his somewhat too positive relations with Orlais, he did not want another occupation. Either way, the Arling of Redcliffe had sworn fealty to the Teyrn of Highever and Bryce was reasonable. He would force his Arlings and Bannorns to remain alert.

 _By the Maker, Maric. Be alive, for Andraste's sake_.

 _15_ _th_ _Haring, 9:24_

 _Denerim Palace_

"Bann Teagan Guerrin, do you represent Arl Eamon Guerrin and the entire Arling of Redcliffe as well as your own Bannorn?" The palace Seneschal asked.

"I do" Bann Teagan answered.

"Then we have at least one representative from all Arlings and Bannorns in our realm present and I can therefore declare this council of the Landsmeet open", The Seneschal said and sat down at his small desk beside the throne.

Arl Eamon wasn't present which was indeed suspicious. Both Teyrns had noticed this and talked it over quickly in Loghain's study just before the opening of the Landsmeet. Teagan hadn't said much about the reason for Eamon not attending, but due to the dire situation, it was something to be wary of.

"Let's make this quick", Loghain rose from his chair as he addressed the Landsmeet, "I will lead the search for the King, taking three ships with me and two troops of the royal navy trained in naval combat and search missions. I've spoken to our naval commander, his captains and decided to bring captain Shannon Mac Feul, captain Heinrik of Loither and captain Rowne Draugin. They are highly experienced in search missions at sea and will, with the help of our marines and by the Maker's grace, do everything they can to find King Maric. Since King Maric is absent from the Throne and I will be at sea, Cailan will rule Ferelden in his stead, with the support of Teyrn Bryce Cousland", Loghain had spoken to Bryce about letting Anora control Cailan. She was a highly sensible girl who successfully could contain Cailan's impulsiveness and be of great help to Bryce while Loghain was away from court.

After a few surprisingly short discussions the Landsmeet ruled in favour of Loghain's suggestion for the course of action and Loghain received more or less free access to the royal treasury to fund the rescue. It was also decided that the Arlings and Bannorns under both Teyrnirs would increase their vigilance around the fereldan boarders with a higher number of soldiers, as well as Loghain leaving the royal army under the command of ser Cauthrien in his absence. The royal army would send more soldiers to the military stations all around Ferelden in case something was to happen and wartime messengers were to be called into service to stand by, if needed.

Loghain felt content regarding the outcome of the Landsmeet and concluded it during the evening with Teyrn Cousland.

"It almost feels as if we're going into war, again", Bryce sighed as he leaned back into his chair.

"Mm", Loghain grunted with a nod and poured whiskey into two glasses.

"Will we be able to finance all of this? We're still a kingdom in debt", Bryce swept down the whole shot of whiskey in one go and cleared his throat.

"For a time, we will. Perhaps not for more than a year", Loghain sighed, "Hopefully it will not take so long for us to find Maric"

"The Waking Sea is vast", Bryce frowned, "And if there's a possibility he's disappeared out in the Amaranthine Ocean, it does not bode well"

"No", Loghain's eyes darkened and he looked at the burning embers in the fireplace.

"What do you think of the Orlesian connection?"

"It's a possibility, of course", Loghain sighed deeply.

"There's been no word from Orlais, or from our sources over there?"

"No"

"That's ominous", Bryce rubbed his forehead, "When do you leave?"

"In two days time, everything is more or less prepared"

"You do work efficiently, I must say" Bryce chuckled without smiling.


	13. 12

_25_ _th_ _Haring, 9:24_

 _Dear Loghain,_

 _I received your message. You must already be quite far out on the Waking Sea by now, my father sent a message from Denerim about you heading for Kirkwall first, which of course makes sense._

 _I was very shaken by the news of King Maric missing, never even reaching Kirkwall. You do not think the Empress has anything to do with this, do you? We have had royal soldiers arriving in Highever and spreading out along the coastline and up in the Highland mountains. My father would not say if they are preparing for war in Denerim, but I cannot help but to feel worried here, so close to the Orlesian border._

 _I am also worrying about you, of course. I know you are not fond of boats to begin with, but spending such a vast time out on the sea must be straining, nevertheless considering this whole ordeal with King Maric. If you are feeling seasick, try to drink a tea made from elfroot and valerian root, it will reduce your nausea and also help you sleep. I am sure one of the military mages you have with you knows this, though._

 _I pray for you every day._

 _Love,_

 _Elissa_

The Highland mountains stretched themselves up in the horizon and soon Loghain could see the Highever castle towering over the village below, his chest filled with a relief of both being securely inside fereldan waters and out of the Orlesian gulf which had been the first destination on the voyage for Maric.

Even though he only left the ship quickly when they laid port in the Orlesian docks and stayed for a few hours, he never felt completely secure. He could easily be assassinated within a few hours in an Orlesian port. He had spent months out on the sea worrying about Maric and growing more and more impatient for not finding _anything._ There was no trace of him anywhere, and the ships heading for Antiva had yet to find anything either.

He had tried to block out the thoughts of Maric's fate by thinking of Elissa, but then his chest started to hurt in another way and he became worried about her, back home in Ferelden. And if it wasn't worry that overcame him, it was a longing for her person, her smile as she joked with him, just like Maric teasingly had joked with him as well. He would read the letter he had received during the past months over and over, trying to catch some scent of her from it. Perhaps he should have answered her letter, but he was a man of too few words to answer a letter. Instead, he made sure they made a stop in Highever before continuing out east on the vast open sea again.

As they sailed into the Highever harbour, Loghain stood at the railing and searched through the faces, they should have seen the ship from up in the castle a while ago, when they closed in on land.

"We'll moor her now!" Captain Loither shouted as the ship came to a stop at one of the piers in the harbour. It required some work to moor the ship, but dockworkers quickly assembled and soon Loghain and his captain could leave the ship and land their feet on Fereldan soil again, for a few days at least.

The spring air in Highever was fresh and warm from the sun gazing down with white and clear rays. The trees and nature all around the docks had started to blossom, almost shyly, not quite ready to burst from the new awakening of life that came every spring. Highever felt more beautiful than it ever had and the fereldan soil more welcoming than it had ever felt before.

Elissa had been sitting in her room reading when Castiel had come running, telling her that a military ship was laying port in the harbour. Elissa had run down through the castle to find her mother, but she weren't to be found anywhere. She asked Castiel for her cape and leather gloves and while she waited for Castiel, Oriana had showed up and quickly agreed to come with her down to the docks.

The two young women hurried down the way to the village and the docks where they could see that a great many curious people already had gathered to watch the large military ship lay port. As she walked closer she could see the tall silhouette of a man with long black hair that flew slightly in the ocean winds blowing in over the harbour. _It was him_. He stood talking to what seemed to be the captain and two other soldiers and she could see even from afar only through they way he stood, that it was Loghain. His arms crossed over his chest, a raised brow and tight jawline. He had a stiff dark blue slim wool coat with silver buttons, buttoned up all the way to his collarbones and a white scarf tied around his neck. Around his waist he had his usual belt, but now he had a sword hanging from the belt as well as his knife. His legs were covered in slim black leather trousers and he had high boots with his usual dagger tucked down into one boot. He looked almost royal, like a warlord. It was strange seeing him like that, Elissa thought. Of course she knew he was a general and commander - a national hero, but she'd never really seen him in that role before.

"Teyrn Mac Tir", Elissa smiled as she walked up to Loghain who quickly turned around and looked at her. His eyes smiled as he took her hands and nodded softly.

"Elissa", he said in a hoarse voice and gave her a nod that would look grave if it wasn't for his eyes. "This is captain Heinrik of Loither", Loghain remembered the other man standing to his left, immediately introducing the captain. He was a middle-aged man with a somewhat rugged look and tousled hair down to his shoulders. He wore a sea captains hat with the royal naval crest and leather clothing.

"A pleasure, my lady", Captain Loither said and bowed. Elissa nodded in greeting.

"Shall we leave for the castle? Oriana is with me and we'll make sure some servants come fetch your belongings and show the soldiers some accommodations", Elissa said, looking into Loghain's eyes.

"Yes, let's", Loghain nodded and they started to move through the people gathered by the large ship.

As they walked up to the castle, Elissa and Oriana asked about the trip and how the search had been along the Free Marcher coastline and then down in the Orlesian gulf. It was mainly the captain answering the questions as Loghain fell silent like he so often did. Elissa glanced at him as they walked and he glanced back at her. He looked surprisingly healthy for having spent several months out on the sea, it was as if the sea air had done him good, or perhaps it was simply being away from the palace in Denerim and all the stress from the work there that had seemed to ease him slightly. But she could also see he carried a worry in his eyes, darkening them and turning them more solemn than icy and piercing. And of course he did. He hadn't found Maric yet, but he _had_ to find Maric. A king can't just disappear without a trace, or could he? Elissa shivered at the thought and let out a small noise as she shook it off her shoulders. Loghain looked at her and stroked the curve of her back as they entered into the castle grounds.

"Ah, Loghain, I heard you had arrived. A pleasant surprise, not only for me I'm sure", Eleanor smiled as she greeted them just inside, "How very nice to have you stay here for a few days", Eleanor walked up to greet them and smiled as she nodded to Loghain.

"Yes, thank you for allowing us", he said and turned from Eleanor to his captain, "This is Teyrna Eleanor Cousland", the captain bowed towards Eleanor, "And this is the ship captain, Heinrik of Loither"

"I am ever so glad to have you here Loghain, captain Loither", Eleanor smiled as she clasped her hands. "Shall we? You must be dying for some solid armchairs and good Highland whiskey, yes?"

"Mm", Loghain nodded as they walked into the castle.

"I'll have the servants prepare your rooms and send some people down to the docks to collect your things", Eleanor continued as she showed them into the large study were a fire was already burning in the large fireplace.

"Thank you", Loghain answered, sitting down in one of the armchairs and leaning himself back.

The poor captain seemed to come from somewhat more simple surroundings and didn't give the impression of being very used to noble salons. He sat and looked a bit uncomfortable as Loghain had started to unbutton his coat and nonchalantly after a servant had taken his sword and carried it away.

"I suspect it's comforting being back in Ferelden, if only for a short while?" Eleanor sat down in the sofa across from Loghain. Elissa sat down in the armchair beside Loghain and Oriana sat beside the captain. "Girl, bring some whiskey and wine, will you", Eleanor nodded to a servant who walked into the study.

"It is, yes", Loghain nodded, "Ferelden is very beautiful during spring, especially when you've spent the last two months along the awful Orlesian coast"

"You poor thing", Elissa smirked.

Loghain chuckled silently, a small smile appearing on his face as he looked over at Elissa for a moment. Then he looked back to Eleanor, stretching his legs out, "How are things for Bryce in the capital? Any news?"

"No, not that I know of. It's my understanding that things seems to run rather smoothly. Anora's been of great help. Cailan is…Well, Cailan", Eleanor answered with an amused smile and grabbed a glass of whiskey from the servant.

"That… He is, yes", Loghain received a glass of whiskey as well, as did the captain. Elissa and Oriana settled with sweet wine.

"But I believe, and Bryce has also expressed it, that Cailan and Anora will make a fine King and Queen, when the time comes", Eleanor said.

"It may come faster than we've hoped" Loghain said in a low tone, his voice slightly hoarse, "We have to be prepared for that outcome"

Eleanor's eyes looked sad as she nodded with tight lips.

The thought of King Maric dead, _dead_ , had not really occurred to Elissa. Of course she had realized he was missing. She'd always just thought about him as being _away_ , which meant that he _would_ come back. When Loghain spoke about needing to prepare for the fact that he might not return, making Cailan and Anora the King and Queen, Elissa couldn't help a sob escaping her as she sat leaned back with her knees crossed, squeezing her mug of wine on her lap.

Loghain's eyes fell on her. Darker than usual, but with a hint of sorrow in them. He reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder. Elissa suddenly felt angry that he'd just jumped to the conclusion that the King was dead.

"How can you even say something like that?" Elissa hissed at Loghain. She could feel something burn behind her eyes, anger and tears blending together to acid inside her. His eyes quickly turned fiery cold as he looked back at her. "You can't talk that way about Maric, just because you haven't found him yet!"

"Elissa", Eleanor said and looked with meaning eyes at her daughter.

"Why would he even be dead? You said it yourself, you've heard nothing from the Orlesians or the Fereldan spies in Orlais, I _or/I_ the Free Marcher ditto", Elissa glared at Loghain.

"That doesn't mean we don't have to prepare for the worst possible outcome, Elissa. We cannot stand unprepared no matter the scenario", Loghain said with a strong but calm voice, as if he was speaking to some loon. "The King, Maker save his soul, might be gone"

"I can't believe you!" Elissa hissed in a high and angry voice with her eyes still intent on Loghain, "You've given up, haven't you? Perhaps not practically, but in your heart! You've given up on Maric!"

"Elissa" Loghain's voice was low and there was a clear warning in it as he sipped his glass of whiskey.

"As you well know, daughter", Eleanor said in a brittle voice, trying to keep up a smile at the now awkward looking poor captain sitting in the middle looking even more uncomfortable now than he'd done to begin with. "Loghain is a pragmatist, you know very well to trust him to do what is right. No matter how much we all care for King Maric, we must realize the importance of securing the throne in his absence. It's almost been five months"

"What if he is looked up in an Orlesian prison? Then what? Rotting away in the hands of those bloody Orlesian bastards!" Elissa rested her head in her palms and sobbed once more. "I can't stand the thought of him being abandoned, still alive somewhere and everyone's just given up on him"

"Elissa", Loghain shot her a harsh look, "I have _not_ given up on Maric. I've told you that I'm continuing to Antiva, and further if I have to", Loghain said, his face twisted, as if he was agonized somewhere beneath his stony expression.

"Excuse me", Elissa said tartly and quickly rose from her chair and hurried out into the hallway and up the stairs to the private quarters. Eleanor made a movement to get up and follow her, but Loghain stood up and gesticulated for her to stay.

"Don't", he sighed and walked out of the room.

The captain looked down his glass with a slightly embarrassed look about him.

"I am so sorry, captain Loither", Eleanor said with a sigh, crossing her knees as she made herself comfortable again, "I apologize for my daughter, she's a headstrong girl", Eleanor tried to smile at the captain who looked up and nodded.

"Oh, there's no bother, Teyrna Cousland. I've daughters me'self", he answered.

"I see", Oriana said and nodded at him with a smile, "Do you also need a Comandante to calm them down?"

"No, I don't reckon I do, no", the captain smiled awkwardly.

"It's alright, you know, we're all familia", Oriana shrugged where she sat with a somewhat ironic smile on her lips, "Typical Fereldan nobility. Everyine just marrying each other", Oriana laughed whilst Eleanor too shrugged with a slightly embarrassed smile. "But Elissa, she was close to King Maric since she was a little niña, so it's not strange her becoming upset, you see". The captain nodded and smiled carefully at the outspoken antivan.

Loghain followed Elissa up the stairs to the private quarters. It was a long time since he had been up there. The last time was the visit in Highever when they had become betrothed. But he remembered where her room was and he guessed that's where he'd find her. He knocked on her door and walked in, finding her sitting on her bed, breathing quietly but not crying.

"Elissa", Loghain said as he sat down beside her.

She didn't look at him, instead her eyes were glued to her wringing hands. "I'm being childish"

"No" Loghain said, reaching out and touching her hands. They were so small compared to his own. "You're worried and so am I"

"It's just too much. Maric being gone and you away looking for him and me being _stuck_ here, without being able to help in the least"

"Hm" Loghain sighed.

"At least you are out looking for him", her voice sounded bitter.

Loghain leaned in again her, burying his nose in her hair. Maker, he'd missed her scent. Missed touching the soft skin of a woman, a woman he enjoyed. Not since Rowan had he truly felt like this towards someone. A constant ache inside him, a want to be close, to feel her near him.

"I'm not giving up", Loghain kissed her scalp, his hand squeezing hers.

"I know", she said, her voice small and silent. "I have really missed you"

"I've missed you too", Loghain answered, his other hand stroking her hip, his head still leaning against hers. Then she turned her head up and kissed him. He answered her kiss, deeply. _Maker, he had missed her_. He had missed the feeling of her lips against his, her tongue carefully touching his own, her scent and her too soft skin.

"I need to have you", she said, as she stroked his jawline and looked straight into his eyes.

"Hm?" Loghain felt somewhat startled by her sudden request, meeting her gaze with a raised eyebrow.

"I need to feel you", she stood up from the bed and walked over to her door, locking it. "Now", she said and then walked back towards Loghain sat straddling him.

He could feel her push herself against him and immediately his blood started flowing and as they kissed, their breathing intensified and he squeezed her hips, so perfectly rounded and full. He could feel her reach down to unbutton his trousers and he lifted her slightly to lay her down on the bed and lay himself on top of her. He opened his trousers and let himself out and then reached in under her dress. He could feel her soft thighs and the soft hair around her opening, the heat and moistness aching from her. He pulled up her skirt and spread her legs. A silent and aching sound left her as he pushed inside. He drew a sharp breath, pushing further until he was filling her up completely. She looked so beautiful laid out before him. Alabaster skin and dark, dark hair. Blue eyes like sapphires looking up at him filled with heat. She reached up and kissed him deeply as she let out as soft, quiet moans as he thrust into her again and again. She was so soft and her body clasped itself around him in such an intense and just perfect way. _Blast it all, she's killing me. How can I ever leave her again_?

After their short 'talk _'_ , Elissa and Loghain returned to the study and Eleanor smiled at her, seemingly glad her daughter had calmed down. When it was time for dinner, the five of them gathered and ate a casual evening meal, talking about that they had seen so far.

Loghain and his captain stayed for three days and they mainly rested, preparing for their continued travelling out on the ocean, looking for any signs of Maric. It was a short visit, but Elissa was happy for it. She got to spend some time with Loghain, never truly alone as it would seem improper for them to be left alone completely for longer stretches of time now that they were engaged to be married. It had been different when he was just her trainer, which in itself Elissa didn't truly understand. Rationally, it should be the other way around – but she supposed nothing was really truly rational when it came to such things. It was nice having him there, at least. Being able to speak with him, touch him behind closed doors for a few moments that they were given to themselves here and there. As usual, he didn't say much most of the time. It was obvious he was stressed, worried and frustrated over the entire situation with Maric. They all were, and still, life had to continue as usual. Or as usual as was possible under the circumstances.

When he left again, Elissa felt as if she couldn't breath. She stood there on the shoreline, her heart in her throat as she watched the ship slowly sail off. Dread filled her chest and suddenly she was convinced Loghain would somehow die whilst out searching for Maric. Loghain, who seemed to be almost immortal. Not so much a man as a legend. But now she knew the man, had seen him as he was in a way she'd never really considered when younger. Before, he'd just been a friend to the family, a political ally when it was suiting – a national hero. Now, she was his and he was hers.


	14. 13

_21th Bloomingtide, 9:26_

 _Denerim_

 _She told you I would betray you_ , Loghain thought as the ships moored in the port of Denerim. _I failed you, I should have found you, but I couldn't_.

He sighed deeply as he watched the city unfold before him. The stench from the harbour reached into his lungs as he watched the dockworkers and whores mixing with soldiers leaving the ships. He could see his daughter wait for him in a carriage further away, ready to take him home. Loghain had spent one year and five months on the sea, in total, searching everywhere he could in the known world, but he couldn't find Maric anywhere. He felt hopeless, why had he even tried? _Because I wouldn't betray you_. He wished he wouldn't, but it felt like he had. It felt as if Maric's disappearance and Loghain's failure to bring him home had cut a profound hole in his soul that probably never would mend.

He walked along the pier as he looked around the docks. He felt so tired, he couldn't possibly remember the last time he felt this exhausted. He had no adrenaline left in his body, no air left in his lungs and it felt as if his heart had stopped pumping blood through his veins.

He had spent months on end watching the different colours of the sea, looking over beach after beach, seen every kind of sand he could possibly imagine. He'd seen the strangest animals both in the ocean and on land. He'd puked over the railing so many times he'd lost count and almost been killed by storms and pirates. He had been away from the two persons he loved for a year. He hadn't seen Anora for a year and a half, and he would do it all again and more, if it meant bringing Maric back home. He could feel his heart breaking as he walked towards the carriage. He was done. There was nothing more he could possibly do. He'd have to learn to live with it, that he couldn't do anything else no matter how much he wanted to. Maric had more or less gone up in smoke, except for the ship that carried him, which they had eventually found. Neither his men nor Maric himself could be found. Loghain could of course have continued his search by land, but that would take years and surely end up killing him eventually. Perhaps it was as Elissa has hissed to him in her anger over a year ago in Highever, that he was in a prison cell in Orlais. _Or, he is dead_.

"Father", Anora stepped out of the carriage and reached out to hug him, placing a dry kiss on his cheek, "You're finally home, thank the Maker"

A grunt was all Loghain could muster. His eyes were undeservedly cold towards Anora, but he couldn't even try to pretend he wasn't so exhausted it was a miracle his legs still even held him up.

"Come on, let's go home, shall we?" Anora said and climbed into the carriage with Loghain following suit.

On the way to the Gwaren Estate they sat in silence in the carriage and when they arrived, Loghain went straight in to his bedchambers and downed two glasses of whiskey before stooping into his bed.

He could distantly hear how a servant fidgeted with something in his room before sneaking out as fast as was possible. Then he could hear voices downstairs, it sounded like Anora and Elissa. Strange. _She's not supposed to be here_ , was all his cloudy mind could register. He heard some dull thumps that seemed to echo in the walls, and then he fell asleep. Enchanting sleep, drifting deep into the fade.

When Elissa arrived at the Gwaren Estate after receiving word from Anora that the three ships had been spotted returning to the Denerim port, she learned that Loghain had gone straight up to his room, seemingly not wanting to be disturbed. Elissa could understand that. Anora however, looked devastated.

"He looked miserable", Anora sighed sitting down in the small library on the ground floor. "I have never seen him that destroyed before. He didn't look like my father, he looked haunted"

"He returned empty-handed, I can understand that he's taking it very hard", Elissa said resting her hands in her lap, "And he loved Maric"

"He did, still does, I suppose" Anora sighed, "We still don't know what has happened to him"

"No, it's curious", Elissa frowned, then shook the frown off and looked out the window. Outside, people were milling about on the market, their lives continuing on like before, seemingly unaffected by the chaos of Maric's disappearance, "How is Cailan doing, during the circumstances? I haven't seen him since I was last in the city", she asked to keep up appearance. She _hadn't_ seen Cailan since she had arrived in Denerim, but she had found out what it was that Cailan _was_ up to, with his glances. Loghain had been gone for a year and both Cailan and Elissa were terrible fiancées.

"Not very good, I'm afraid", Anora shook her head, "Now I have two depressed men to take care of, Maker help me"

"You know very well that I will help you Anora", Elissa said, reaching forward and taking Anora's hand into her own. Indeed, she would. Her own actions left her no choice. In her foolishness, she found herself loving both Loghain and Cailan both. It was foolish, but a year was a long time, especially for Elissa. "I may not be the Maker, but I can help, and I will"

"You have indeed become a dear friend", Anora said, squeezing Elissa's hands, "It make's me so very glad", Anora seemed to try and smile kindly, but failed just as miserably as her father would have, if he'd been awake to try. _A good friend indeed. I'm so sorry, Anora,_ Elissa though bitterly.

"Me too", Elissa said with a soft smile, "Very much so"

They sat in the couch for a while, not saying much at all, instead keeping each other company and resting from all the turmoil. Elissa felt an ache in her chest for Loghain and very much for Cailan. She wanted to be with them both, however, if she was to be with someone, it was with her fiancée. She pushed away her guilt towards Anora, as she always did and focused on being her friend. Nothing good could come out of Anora finding out. She never would, Elissa had promised herself and forced Cailan to make the very same promise. He wasn't difficult, never was, really. As the sun began to go down a servant came and asked if they wanted dinner and Anora was persistent of Elissa staying for dinner. Elissa sent a message with a servant to the Cousland Estate about her staying with Anora during the evening and also possibly the night, since she was devastated from the whole ordeal. Later that evening Bryce came by to assess the situation and found Elissa and Anora back in the library, drinking wine and talking.

"Good evening ladies", Bryce said as he walked into the library.

"Bryce, good evening", Anora tried one of her failing smiles again and looked up at the Teyrn.

"Good evening, papa", Elissa said and reached her hand out for her father to grasp it, "Please, sit down with us"

"How are you doing Anora?" Bryce asked.

"Well, Elissa has made sure I've eaten a bit. It is always harder not to eat if one has company, is it not?"

"Indeed, it is. I am glad to hear that Elissa's been giving you some comfort", Bryce said and smiled towards Anora and his daughter. "Where's Loghain?"

"I am afraid he hasn't left his room since he arrived back. He is sleeping", Anora said, "I sent a servant up with food an hour or so ago and he told me father was still asleep"

"He's taking it hard. That's not very surprising, is it?" Bryce said and squeezed his daughter's hand.

"Would you like some wine, papa?" Elissa asked.

"No, no, there's no need", Bryce stood again, a weary look on his face, "I just wanted to check in on you for the night. I'm returning to the palace and Cailan in a moment. I suppose you are staying, helping Anora until Loghain's had his rest?"

"If you want me to stay, Anora, I will", Elissa said and looked at Anora.

"You're very kind", Anora nodded. "I just feel completely at loss as to what I can do. Both with father and with Cailan"

"It is not your burden alone, Anora", Bryce said and looked into Anora's eyes. "You have us, we will soon be family and I don't see why we can't start that a little early by acting as such when there's dire need for it"

"Thank you Bryce", Anora sighed, as if she repressed a sob.

"If you ever need anything, you can always come to Eleanor and myself", Bryce nodded towards Anora. "And remember, you are a strong woman. You will get through this as a whole person. Maker, you're possibly the only one with some control over Cailan. T _hat_ , if anything, is damn right impressive"

Elissa smiled softly, ignoring her feeling of guilt.

"Well then", Bryce sighed, "I'm going to be on my way, do you need anything from home, Elissa?"

"No, I'll be fine. I'll sleep in my shift and I guess you have a guest quarter tucked away here somewhere, yes?" Elissa smiled and looked at Anora.

"Of course, I'll have a servant ready it", she nodded and straightened her back. "Thank you for stopping by, Bryce, and for your kind words"

"It was nothing, I assure you", Bryce said, then turned to Elissa, "I'll see you tomorrow, pup", before he left for the palace.

Anora had the guest quarters prepared for Elissa during the evening, but they stayed up quite late, simply talking.

"If it's not too painful for you, I would really like to know more about your mother, Celia", Elissa said and sipped some wine.

"Oh, not at all, it is just seldom someone actually asks about her", Anora answered and looked down on her hands. "What would you like to know?"

"Nothing specific, really. Just _about_ her. How was she?"

"Well," Anora cleared her throat, "I'm told I look a lot like her, she was tall and slim, with the same blond hair as I"

Elissa smiled.

"She loved roses, she would spend as much time as she could in the garden during spring, summer and early autumn. My father could never understand that, he's never liked flowers or gardening. He actually even killed an entire rosebush just by touching it, once"

"Just by touching it? I can't believe that", Elissa smirked.

"He did and he felt so bad about it that he brought a new one back for my mother from Denerim. Apparently the thorns had made a complete mess, ripping up his skin under his coat during the ride back to Gwaren, but he was determined to give her a new one", Anora smiled softly and sighed.

"He must have really loved her, since he's waited so long to remarry. He didn't even want to marry me to begin with", Elissa chuckled softly.

"He didn't?" Anora looked surprised, "I didn't know that"

"It was Maric's idea, he more or less forced Loghain to agree to it, for what reason I don't actually know"

"Typical Maric", Anora smirked and laughed softly.

"But how was Celia, as a person?" Elissa asked, sincere in her curiosity.

"She was kind, but quiet. She rarely spoke. I used to find it utterly annoying as a child, because it felt like she was ignoring me. Of course, I've realised later that she wasn't, she just didn't speak unless she had something to say. And she almost never got angry or mad. And that was almost worse. She became cold instead, shutting you out without a word and disappearing into her own world of roses and paintings. I remember one time when I had stolen her prepared colours that she used for her painting and I had tried to 'decorate' the fireplace in father's study. It was before he moved to Denerim and I must have been about ten years old. Mother discovered me, but she simply stared at me with empty eyes as if she was just disappointed and all I remember is that it really hurt. Then father came and saw what I had done and he started raving and dragged me to the kitchens to clean my hands. He scolded me the entire time, also while he forced me to remove the paint. Of course he helped me clean it off, but when that was done, he wasn't angry anymore. I had been punished and got an earful and that was that. But mother, she retained her disappointed empty eyes for several days and hardly spoke to me at all. I even think father got mad at her for it, as well", Anora sighed and drank some of her wine. "She was just very hard to get to know, even as her child. But she was nice when she was in a good mood. She taught me about flowers, gardening, even cooking and painting. When father had left for Denerim, we used to spend the evenings talking and she told me of old Fereldan folk tales and stories about the old gods. She was a good storyteller and she had a kind heart, even though she rarely showed it."

"I get that feeling when Loghain speaks of her", Elissa said softly.

"He speaks of mother?"

"He rarely speaks much at all, really. But if I ask, he tends to tell me a little at a time"

"Yes, he's like that", Anora sighed with a soft smile.

"But I've noticed he never talks about his own mother. He's only mentioned her name, Elia"

"Well, yes. There's a reason for it", Anora twisted her lips, frowning as her gaze fell from Elissa to the floor, "She died in a very cruel fashion"

"I suspected as much. You don't have to tell me. If he want's me to know, he'll tell me himself"

"Yes, I believe he will", Anora nodded, "Well, should we see if your room is ready? I'm beginning to feel rather tired"

"That sounds like a good idea", Elissa agreed.

Elissa could hear Anora closing the door to her quarters on the top floor of the estate and she peeked into her assigned room. However, she thought it best to check on Loghain before she went to bed. Was he still breathing? She hadn't seen him for a year and he had slept since they arrived back this afternoon.

She opened the door to his quarters and both rooms were completely darkened. Deciding to turn back, she went into her room again and fetched a burning candle so that she could light a few candles in Loghain's quarters. He couldn't lie there in complete darkness.

She lit a few candles in his adjoining small study before she walked into his bedroom and lit a wall chandelier and a small lantern by his bed. She could see his chest moving up and down as he lay on his back in the bed. Sometimes he let out a snore and his face flinched a little. One of his arms hung over the edge of his bed and the other was stretched over his stomach. He hadn't even taken his boots off or his coat. If it weren't for the odd snore, flinch and his regular breathing, she'd almost suspect that he actually _was_ dead. His long black hair was slightly tousled against the pillows but he still had both his braids intact. Elissa sat down beside him in the bed and watched him for a while, before she stroked his hand resting softly on his stomach.

"Loghain", she said in a soft voice, "You're not dead are you?"

He flinched a little, but kept breathing deeply. She pushed him a little and squeezed his hand.

"What!?" he snarled, opening his eyes. At first he looked completely confused as he rose from his back to sit up, then he seemed to focus his eyes on Elissa and he reached out to her and drew one of her curls through his hand. Without a word he pulled her to him and they embraced. Elissa reached her arms around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder, breathing him in.

"I've missed you so awfully much", Elissa sighed quietly. And she had, so very much. It almost felt as if her heart was about to explode just being near him again.

"Where did you come from?" he asked, still holding on to her tightly.

"I've been here since you came back"

"You have?" he kissed her cheek and then breathed into her hair.

"Yes, I've been talking with Anora, we had dinner and my father came by"

"What's the time? It must be late"

"I think it's past midnight, the moon is high up in the sky"

"Then why are you still here? You can't walk home by yourself this late", Loghain raked his fingers through her hair, holding her tightly to him.

"I'm staying the night", Elissa stroked her hands over his chest, "Anora wanted me to. She's worried about you, you know"

"I can imagine" Loghain sighed. "You're staying in the guest quarters?"

"Yes, they've prepared them for me, I just wanted to make sure that you were still alive"

"I am", Loghain said and loosened his grip around her a little, kissing her lips softly. "You better go to bed then, I'm still alive", he said with a small smile.

"Thank the Maker", Elissa smiled and kissed him again. "But you need to at least take your boots of, before you go back to sleep, Teyrn Mac Tir"

"I comply, Lady Elissa", he said, his hand running over hers, "Now, off you go. We can't have the servants talking too much"

"Good night, love", Elissa leaned in and kissed him deeply, before she left for the guest quarters.

He must have been completely drained and utterly exhausted, Loghain thought as he woke up from the forenoon sun blinding him through the windows. How late could it possibly be? He could hear the noises from outside in the market and the dull sounds of servants working downstairs. His body felt stiff and sore, even though he didn't have any injuries. Perhaps he was finally getting old.

Loghain was still dressed since yesterday, but he had taken off his boots before falling asleep again after Elissa had gone to her guest chamber. It had been the most surreal feeling of waking up, without the world seemingly spinning or at least moving a little bit, with _her_ sitting on the bedside. He had noticed her looking just a bit different, not much, but her cheekbones had become more pronounced and she had a more serious streak in her complexion. The last year had certainly been difficult for Loghain and what was to say it hadn't been difficult for those who had to wait back home?

As he walked down the stairs, he could hear the noise of cutlery and food being cooked and he realized just how hungry he was. He was greeted by Arlethan, who welcomed him home since he hadn't greeted the poor man yesterday. He'd been too tired, too tired for anything. He found Anora and Elissa sitting in the dining room, having lunch and went and sat down at the table with them.

"Are you feeling better, father?" Anora smiled to him.

"I needed sleep", Loghain answered and were served some stew by an elven servant.

"I can imagine", Elissa said, "I only wish you could have some time to rest some more. My father is coming by this afternoon. They are summoning the Landsmeet in a weeks time"

"Well, then I'll have a week to prepare", Loghain twisted his lips slightly, digging into his food, "There's not much to say in any case"

"I am guessing the Landsmeet will feel different", Anora stirred her spoon in her pot of stew.

"Of course", Loghain sighed. "Elissa, I would like to speak to you later, in private"

"Sure", Elissa nodded and took a spoonful of the brown boar-stew and reached to dip some bread in the sauce.

Loghain couldn't help looking at her, across the table. She had changed and in a very good way. She still had her soft streaks, with small almost slightly chubby hands, though they now were the hands of a woman. Her hair had become even longer than it was before, but it was still very much dark brown with large curls. She had it braided and pulled up, with a large orlesian braid hanging down over her shoulder. The braid itself reached below her heavy bosom and the hair at the end curled itself over the small leather lace that held the braid together. That along with her marble-like skin, pale and cold in colour but with rosy cheeks and her dark blue eyes. She was a sight to behold.

After the lunch Elissa walked to Loghain's study to wait for him, since he'd asked to speak to her. After a few minutes he came in and closed the door behind him, locking it in the process. Elissa was almost startled as he lifted her up in a combined embrace and deep kiss. But she had missed this so much, she had dreamed about it, for weeks, months, for a year. What she had done with Cailan just wasn't the same thing. It was something else, something more light-hearted. Pleasure with less emotion. It was something _forbidden_ for them both, for several reasons. She was weak, indeed, very weak. But with Cailan, at least she was in the good company of weak royal blood, seeing as they _were_ distant cousins.

Loghain pushed her up on the desk, spread her legs and pulled up her skirt and in what only seemed like a few seconds, he forced himself inside her. "Finally", Elissa heard herself breathe and Loghain gave a strangled groan in response.

He took her with force on the desk and they tried to stay as quiet as possible, breathing into each other's necks. Elissa grasped his shoulders and his hands held a steady grip on her hips. He felt so perfect and so large it pained her slightly. She had not been prepared for this, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that they were once again one, just as they were supposed to be.

Their bodies smacked against each other, the table groaning from the motion. Loghain ravished her. Elissa, she took as good as she got and fisted her hands in his hair, spurring him on. Finally, Loghain released himself inside her for the first time. His groan, together with the feeling she got when his whole body tensed up for a few seconds, made her shiver in the most sensational way. When he relaxed, he kissed her softly, letting his lips linger on hers – two people sharing one breath, if only for another stolen moment. And all she could possibly do was answer his kisses and rake her fingers through his hair as their breaths calmed.


	15. 14 - NOT REWRITTEN

Chapter 13 part II – Within a mile of home

8th Haring, 9:24

Denerim Palace

 _Damn you Maric. If your carelessness only could be contained to falling of horses or laughing in the wrong kind of company – why do you have to disappear? Why do I always have to be the one being left behind to search for you? Damn you._

Loghain had dispatched messengers to all regions of Ferelden, calling all nobles to Denerim for a Landsmeet. The King, _Marker's balls Maric_ , had gone missing at sea, his ship hadn't arrived in Kirkwall as planned. He seemed to never have reached the Free Marches at all, the messenger that had arrived at the Denerim Palace was sent from the Vael family of Starkhaven, from their Estate in Kirkwall. Maric was supposed to meet the Kirkwall Seneschal and the head of the Vael family to discuss trading treaties between the united states of the Free Marchers and Ferelden.

The interpreter looked at Loghain as he sat behind his desk in the Palace, trying to figure out where to even begin. He wanted to bash his head into his desk and scream. Why, _why_ did these things _always_ occur with Maric? It was as if he was destined to be a _pain_ and disappearing once every ten years – leaving his Kingdom to fend for itself, or well, leaving _Loghain_ to fend for the Kingdom. _By himself_.

"Wünscht der General eine Nachricht an Kirkwall zurück?" The messenger asked in common marcher, looking at Loghain. Loghain sighed and looked at the interpreter.

"He asks if you would like a message delivered back to Kirkwall"

"Ah, yes" Loghain rubbed his temples and pushed a parchment and a bowl of ink to the interpreter, "Write that we wish them to aid us in the search for the King, if they have the possibility. The Free Marches are our allies, after all, and I know of no known orlesian entanglement in neither Kirkwall nor Starkhaven"

The interpreter wrote the short message, in finer words, at least that's what Loghain hoped and gave it to him to sign it and seal it with the royal seal. Loghain then gave the messenger the small parchment.

"An den Seneschal und die Familie Vael in Kirkwall" Loghain said in rugged common marcher to the messenger.

"Sofort, General Mac Tir" The messenger bowed and left Loghain's study, together with the interpreter.

Now Loghain was tasked with starting to organize the search, he had called for a Landsmeet to be able to secure funds, but he couldn't send out larger parts of their army at sea, that would leave Ferelden in an even more vulnerable state. _If_ Maric's disappearance had something to do with Orlais, they couldn't risk pulling out several divisions of soldiers and their commanders from Ferelden to search the Waking Sea. What he could do, however, was travel himself, leaving the palace Seneschal and Anora in charge, for the time being. But the search would take months; it could even take a year or more. But he _had_ to try and find Maric, he owed him that much. Maric was not only his King, but also his closest friend.

Loghain could probably have the Landsmeet agree to send out three ships for the search and perhaps 100 royal naval soldiers, which would be more than enough. But it would be expensive. He could also hire mercenaries, but, that would be equally expensive and one missing troop from the royal army wouldn't affect the military posts guarding the boarders of Ferelden. He would simply have to urge the Bannorns and Arlings close to the orlesian boarder to stay alert and increase their own military surveillance. Of course that blasted Arl Eamon with his orlesian whore of a wife could have something to do with Maric's disappearance, but why would he? He is Maric's brother-in-law, and no matter his somewhat too positive relations with Orlais, he did not want another occupation. Either way, the Arling of Redcliffe had sworn fealty to the Teyrn of Highever and Bryce was reasonable and as such he would force his Arlings and Bannorns to remain alert.

 _By the Maker, Maric. Be alive, for Andraste's sake_.


	16. 13 Within a mile of home III

Chapter 13 part III – Within a mile of home

15th Haring, 9:24

Denerim Palace

"Bann Teagan Guerrin, do you represent Arl Eamon Guerrin and the entire Arling of Redcliffe as well as your own Bannorn?" The palace Seneschal asked.

"I do" Bann Teagan answered.

"Then we have at least one representative from all Arlings and Bannorns in Ferelden present and I can therefore declare this council of the Landsmeet open" The Seneschal said and sat down at his small desk beside the throne.

Arl Eamon wasn't present which was indeed suspicious; both Teyrns had noticed this and talked it over quickly in Loghain's study just before the opening of the Landsmeet. Teagan hadn't said much about the reason for Eamon not attending, but due to the dire situation, it was something to be wary of.

"Let's make this quick", Loghain rose from his chair as he addressed the Landsmeet, "I will lead the search for the King, taking three ships with me and two troops of the royal navy trained in marital combat and search missions. I've spoken to our marital commander and his captains and decided to bring captain Shannon Mac Feul, captain Heinrik of Loither and captain Rowne Draugin. They are highly experienced in search missions at sea and will, with the help of our soldiers and by the Maker's grace, do everything they can to find King Maric.

"Since King Maric is absent from the Throne and I will be at sea, Cailan will rule Ferelden in his stead, with the support of Teyrn Bryce Cousland" Loghain had spoken to Bryce about letting Anora control Cailan, she was a highly sensible girl who successfully could contain Cailan's impulsiveness and be of great help to Bryce while Loghain was away from court.

After a few surprisingly short discussions the Landsmeet ruled in favour of Loghain's suggestion for the course of action and Loghain received more or less free access to the royal treasury to fund the rescue. It was also decided that the Arlings and Bannorns under both Teyrnirs would increase their vigilance around the fereldan boarders with a higher number of soldiers, as well as Loghain leaving the royal army under the command of ser Cauthrien in his absence. The royal army would send more soldiers to the military stations all around Ferelden in case something was to happen and wartime messengers were to be called into service to stand by, if needed.

Loghain felt content regarding the outcome of the Landsmeet and concluded it during the evening with Teyrn Cousland.

"It almost feels as if we're going into war, again" Bryce sighed as he leaned back into his chair.

"Indeed it does", Loghain nodded and poured whiskey into two glasses.

"Will we be able to finance all of this, for as long as it might need?" Bryce swept down the whole shot of whiskey in one go and cleared his throat.

"For a time, we will, but perhaps not for more than a year" Loghain sighed, "Hopefully it will not take a _year_ for us to find Maric"

"The Waking Sea is vast", Bryce frowned, "And if there's a possibility he's disappeared out in the Amaranthine Ocean, it does not bode well"

"It does not", Loghain nodded.

"What do you think of the orlesian connection?"

"It's a possibility, of course" Loghain sighed deeply, "It's an excellent way for them to destabilize us, having our King 'disappear'"

"There's been no word from Orlais, or from our sources over there?"

"No"

"That's ominous" Bryce rubbed his forehead, "When do you leave?"

"In two days time, everything is more or less prepared"

"You do work efficiently, I must say" Bryce chuckled without smiling.


	17. 14 Correspondence I

Chapter 14 – Correspondence part I 

_25_ _th_ _Haring, 9:24_

 _Dear Loghain,_

 _I received your message. You must already be quite far out on the Waking Sea by now, my father sent a message from Denerim about you heading for Kirkwall first, which of course makes sense._

 _I was very shaken by the news of King Maric missing, never even reaching Kirkwall, you do not think the Empress has anything to do with this, do you? We have had royal soldiers arriving in Highever and spreading out along the coastline and up in the Highland mountains. My father would not say if they are preparing for war in Denerim, but I cannot help but to feel worried here, so close to the orlesian border._

 _I am also worrying about you, of course. I know you are not fond of boats to begin with, but spending such a vast time out on the sea must be straining, nevertheless considering this whole ordeal with King Maric. If you are feeling seasick, try to drink a tea made from elfroot and valerian root, it will reduce your nausea and also help you sleep. I am sure one of the military mages you have with you knows this, though._

 _I pray for you every day._

 _Love,_

 _Rhiannon Cousland_

* * *

10th Wintermarch, 9:25

Kirkwall, Free Marches

Rhiannon,

Thank you for your message, I received it today. Tomorrow we are heading out on the sea again after restocking here. I have met with the Seneschal and the head of the Vael family, they have arranged for a search as well, all over the Free Marches. They also had suspicions considering the orlesians, but their sources in Orlais were just as ours, unaware of any orlesian knowledge about the King.

I will talk to the mage on my ship about the tea for seasickness, I have so far been spared from too severe nausea, but the ocean has so far been calm. However, the spring storms are going to stir up the ocean coming down south from Tevinter and I may need it then.

Take care of yourself.

LMT 

* * *

_28_ _th_ _Wintermarch, 9:25_

 _My love,_

 _I realized your birthday is coming up, it is the 3_ _rd_ _of Guardian, is it not? Since that day probably already will have passed when you receive this message, depending on when you next lay port, Happy Birthday. I wish I could send you something big and lavish, but I have enclosed a small pendant in pure silver, blessed by Mother Mallol. I hope you can see what it is? If you are getting to short sighted, now with your age and all that, I can enlighten you – it is Andraste's Mabari. I remembered you told me you had a mabari as a child and I could not think of anything more suitable in a small enough size. A mabari is the most faithful creature in Thedas and the symbol of Ferelden. With strength, faith and the blessing from our Fereldan prophet Andraste, I know you will return to me._

 _I haven't heard anything from Denerim about your search, so I gather it as been fruitless so far, but I retain the hope of you finding King Maric, soon I hope._

 _You continue to have my prayers._

 _Love,_

 _Rhiannon Cousland_

* * *

11th Drakonis, 9:25

Val Royeaux, Coast of Orlais

Rhiannon,

I could not help but to detect a somewhat impudent tone in your last letter that I received while in Jader, regarding my age and the function of my eyes. You should be aware that my memory has not in the least been affected by my age, nor has my fondness for punishing insubordinate young women.

But, thank you for the pendant, it is very nice and I am sure to need the blessing of our own beloved prophet during our time in the orlesian gulf. Our ship is the only one taking this route, the other ships have continued up towards Antiva. We will not stay here for long, but we need to search the coastlines and the gulf itself in case Maric's ship came this way for some reason.

We will stay for restocking in Highever on our way to Antiva, which would probably be in a month's time. I would like to see you if possible.

LMT 

* * *

_25_ _th_ _Drakonis, 9:25_

 _Loghain,_

 _I do not know if I appreciate the tone of your last message, you write of punishment and insubordination, I am however, your ever-faithful servant, having done nothing to deserve threats of such a nature._

 _On another note, I have informed my mother of your arrival during the middle of Cloudreach and you and your captain are welcome to stay in the Highever castle – mother will also arrange for accommodations for the soldiers._

 _I cannot wait to see you again, I do miss you awfully._

 _Love,_

 _Rhiannon Cousland_


	18. 15 A visit

Chapter 15 – A visit

16th Cloudreach, 9:25

Highever

The Highland mountains stretched themselves up in the horizon and soon Loghain could see the Highever castle towering over the village below, his chest filled with a relief of both being securely inside fereldan waters and out of the orlesian gulf. Even though he only left the ship quickly when they laid port in the orlesian docks and stayed for a few hours, he never felt completely secure. He could easily be assassinated within a few hours in an orlesian port. The relief he felt was also due to the fact of his longing to see Rhiannon again overshadowed his worry for Maric, for the time being. He had spent months out on the sea worrying about Maric and growing more and more impatient for not finding _anything_. There was no trace of him anywhere, and the ships heading for Antiva had yet to find anything either.

He had tried to block out the thoughts of Maric's fate by thinking of Rhiannon, but then his chest started to hurt in another way and he became worried about her, back home in Ferelden. And if it wasn't worry that overcame him, it was a longing for her person, her smile as she joked with him – the way Maric teasingly had joked with him as well. He would read the letters he had received during the past months over and over, trying to catch some scent of her from them. He had tied the pendant Rhiannon had sent him around his neck the same day he got it and whenever he touched it, he told a small prayer to Andraste, to keep Rhiannon safe as he was away.

As they sailed into the Highever harbour, Loghain stood at the railing and searched through the faces, they should have seen the ship from up in the castle a while ago, when they closed in on land.

"We'll moor her now!" Captain Loither shouted as the ship came to a stop at one of the piers in the harbour. It required some work to moor the ship, but dockworkers quickly assembled and soon Loghain and his captain could leave the ship and land their feet on Fereldan soil again, for a few days at least.

The spring air in Highever was fresh and lukewarm from the sun gazing down with white and clear rays, typical of the spring. The trees and nature all around the docks had started to blossom, almost shyly, not quite ready to burst from the new awakening of life that came every spring. Highever felt more beautiful than it ever had and the fereldan soil more welcoming than it had ever felt before.

* * *

Rhiannon had been sitting in her room reading when Castiel had come running, telling her that a military ship was laying port in the harbour. _It has to be Loghain_. Rhiannon had run down through the castle to find Eleanor, but she weren't to be found anywhere. Rhiannon then asked Castiel for her cape and leather gloves and while she waited for Castiel, Oriana had showed up and quickly agreed to come with her down to the docks. Rhiannon and Oriana asked one of the servants to find Eleanor and tell her that it seemed very much like the Teyrn of Gwaren had arrived.

Rhiannon and Oriana hurried down the way to the village and the docks where they could see that a great many curious people already had gathered to watch the large military ship lay port. As she walked closer she could see the tall silhouette of a man with long black hair that flew slightly in the ocean winds blowing in over the harbour. _It was him_. He stood talking to what seemed to be the captain and two other soldiers and she could see even from afar only through they way he stood, that it was Loghain. His arms crossed over his chest, a raised brow and tight jawline. He had a stiff dark blue slim wool coat with silver buttons, buttoned up all the way to his collarbones and a white scarf tied around his neck. Around his waist he had his usual belt, but now he had a sword hanging from the belt as well as his dirk. His legs were covered in slim black leather trousers and he had high boots with his usual dagger tucked down into one boot. He looked almost royal, like a warlord – and that he was. He was a fereldan warlord and a national hero, and there he stood like one with his broad shoulders in his typical slim but muscular appearance.

"Teyrn Mac Tir" Rhiannon smiled as she walked up to Loghain who quickly turned around and looked at her. His eyes smiled as he took her hands and nodded softly.

"Lady Rhiannon" He said in a hoarse voice and smirked a little, "And Lady Oriana, what a pleasure to be greeted by you"

"It's the least we could do" Oriana said and smiled.

"This is captain Heinrik of Loither" Loghain introduced the captain standing beside him. He was a middle-aged man with a somewhat rugged look and tousled hair down to his shoulders. He wore a sea captains hat with the royal naval crest and leather clothing.

"A pleasure, Lady Rhiannon, Lady Oriana" Captain Loither said and bowed. Both Rhiannon and Oriana nodded in greeting.

"Shall we leave for the castle? We'll have servants come fetch your belongings and show the soldiers to their accommodations" Rhiannon said, looking into Loghain's eyes.

"Yes, let's" Loghain nodded and they started to move through the people gathered by the large ship.

As they walked up to the castle, Rhiannon and Oriana asked about the trip and how the search had been along the Free Marcher coastline and then down in the Orlesian gulf. It was mainly the captain answering the questions as Loghain fell silent like he so often did. Rhiannon glanced at him as they walked and he glanced back, smirking softly towards her. He looked surprisingly healthy for having spent several months out on the sea, it was as if the sea air had done him good, or perhaps it was simply being away from the palace in Denerim and all the stress from the work there that had seemed to ease him slightly. But she could also see he carried a worry in his eyes, and of course he did, he hadn't found Maric yet, but he _had_ to find Maric. A King can't just disappear without a trace, or could he? Rhiannon shivered at the thought and let out a small shivering noise as she shook it off her shoulders. Loghain looked at her and stroked the curve of her back as they entered into the castle grounds.

"Ah, Loghain, I heard you had finally arrived. How very nice to have you stay here for a few days", Eleanor walked up to greet them and smiled as she nodded to Loghain.

"A pleasure, surely" He nodded, "This is Teyrna Eleanor Cousland" he looked at his captain, who bowed towards Eleanor, "And this is the ship captain, Heinrik of Loither"

"I am ever so glad to have you here Loghain, captain Loither" Eleanor smiled as she clasped her hands. "Shall we? You must be dying for some solid armchairs and good Highland whiskey, yes?"

"Indeed" Loghain answered as they walked into the castle.

"I'll have the servants prepare your rooms and I've already sent some people down to the docks to collect your things" Eleanor continued as she showed them into the large study were a fire was already burning in the large fireplace.

"Thank you", Loghain answered and sat down in one of the armchairs and leaned himself back.

The poor captain seemed to come from somewhat more simple surroundings and didn't give the impression of being very used to noble salons. He sat and looked a bit uncomfortable as Loghain had started to unbutton his coat and nonchalant dropped his sword belt on the floor beside him for a servant to pick up and bring to his room later.

"I suspect it's comforting being back in Ferelden, if only for a short while?" Eleanor sat down in the sofa across from Loghain. Rhiannon sat down in the armchair beside Loghain and Oriana sat beside the captain. "Girl, bring some whiskey and wine, will you" Eleanor nodded to a servant who walked into the study.

"It is, indeed" Loghain nodded, "You can't help but to notice how beautiful Ferelden is during spring, when you've spent the last two months along the muddy orlesian coast"

"You poor thing", Rhiannon smirked.

"Yes, I do feel utterly sorry for myself, Lady Rhiannon" Loghain chuckled silently. "How are things for Bryce in the capital? Any news?"

"No, not that I know of. Things seems to run rather smoothly as I understand. Anora's been of great help, as Cailan is…Well, Cailan" Eleanor answered and grabbed a glass of whiskey from the servant.

"That, he is, yes" Loghain received a glass of whiskey as well, as did the captain. Rhiannon and Oriana settled with sweet wine.

"But I do believe, and Bryce has also expressed it, that Cailan and Anora will make a fine King and Queen, when the time comes" Eleanor said.

"It may come faster than we've hoped, I am afraid" Loghain said in a low voice, "We have to be prepared for that outcome"

"Unfortunately, yes", Eleanor nodded.

The thought of King Maric dead, _dead_ , had not really occurred to Rhiannon. Of course she had realized he was missing, but she'd always just thought about him being _away_ – meaning that he _would_ come back. When Loghain said that about needing to prepare for the fact that he might not return, making Cailan and Anora the king and queen, Rhiannon couldn't help or hinder a sob escaping her as she sat leaned back with her knees crossed, squeezing her mug of wine on her lap.

Loghain looked at her and reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder. But Rhiannon felt angry with him, simply jumping to the conclusion that the King was dead. _It may come faster than we've hoped_.

"How can you even say something like that?" Rhiannon hissed at Loghain, she could feel something burn behind her eyes and his eyes quickly turned fiery cold. "You can't talk that way about Maric, just because you haven't found him yet!"

"Rhiannon", Eleanor said and looked with meaning eyes at her daughter.

"Why would he even be dead? You said it yourself, you've heard nothing from the orlesians or the fereldan spies in Orlais, _or_ the free marcher ditto" Rhiannon glared at Loghain.

"That doesn't mean we don't have to prepare for the worst possible outcome, Rhiannon" Loghain sighed and held her glare. "The King, Maker save his soul, _might_ be gone"

"I can't believe you!" Rhiannon hissed in a high and angry voice with her eyes still intent on Loghain, "You've given up, haven't you? Perhaps not practically, but in your heart – you've given up on Maric!"

"Rhiannon, I have not" Loghain said and sipped his glass of whiskey.

"As you well know, daughter" Eleanor said in a strained voice, trying to keep up a smile at the now awkward looking captain, "Loghain is a pragmatist, you know very well to trust him to do what is right. No matter how much we all care for King Maric, we must realize the importance of securing the throne in his absence. It's almost been five months, Rhiannon"

"What if he is looked up in an orlesian prison? Then what? Rotting away in the hands of those bloody orlesian bastards!" Rhiannon rested her head in her palms and sobbed once more. "I can't stand the thought of him being abandoned, still alive somewhere and everyone's just given up on him"

"Rhiannon, my love, I have _not_ given up on Maric. I've told you that I'm continuing to Antiva, and further if I have to" Loghain spoke in a low soft voice, as he stroked Rhiannon's back.

"Excuse me" Rhiannon said dryly and quickly rose from her chair and hurried out into the hallway and up the stairs to the private quarters. Eleanor made a movement to get up and follow her, but Loghain stood up and gesticulated for her to stay.

"I'll talk to her" He sighed and walked out of the room.

The captain looked down his glass with a slightly embarrassed look about him.

"I am so sorry, captain Loither, I apologize for my daughter, she's a strong willed girl" Eleanor tried to smile at the captain who looked up and nodded.

"Oh, no bother, Teyrna Cousland, I've daughters me'self", He answered.

"I see", Oriana said and nodded at him with a smile, "Do you also need a Comandante to calm them down?"

"No, I don't reckon I do, no", The captain smiled awkwardly.

"It's alright, you know, we're all Familia, typical fereldan nobility – all just marrying each other" Oriana laughed in her thick antivan accent while Eleanor shrugged with a slightly embarrassed smile. "But Rhiannon, she was close to the King, since she was a little niña, so it's not strange her becoming upset, you see". The captain nodded and smiled carefully at the outspoken antivan.

* * *

Loghain followed Rhiannon up the stairs to the private quarters; it was a long time since he had been up there. The last time was the visit in Highever when Rhiannon and himself had become betrothed, but he remembered where her room was and he guessed that's where he'd find her. He knocked on her door and walked in, he found her sitting on her bed, breathing quietly, but not crying.

"Rhiannon, I did not mean to upset you" Loghain said as he sat down beside her.

"I know", she said and looked up at him, "I'm being childish"

"You're not" Loghain said and stroked her wrist, "You're worried – and so am I"

"It's just too much, Maric being gone and you away looking for him and me being _stuck_ here, without being able to help in the least"

"I feel the same way, even though I'm trying to _do_ something" Loghain sighed.

"Well, at least you're out looking for him" She smiled bitterly.

Loghain pulled her closer to him, embracing her and she leaned in against his chest.

"I'm _not_ giving up, Rhiannon" Loghain smelled her hair and kissed her scalp.

"I know", She said, with her lips resting on the skin of his neck. "I have really missed you"

"I've missed you as well" Loghain answered and stroked her hip. Then she turned her head up and kissed him, and he answered her kiss, deeply. _Maker, he had missed her_. He had missed the feeling of her lips against his, her tongue carefully touching his own, her scent and her soft skin.

"I need to have you", she said, as she stroked his jawline and looked straight into his eyes.

"Now?" Loghain felt somewhat startled by her sudden request.

"Yes", she stood up from the bed and walked over to her door, locking it. Then she walked back towards Loghain and sat down over him, straddling him.

He could feel her push herself towards him and immediately his blood started flowing and as they kissed, their breathing intensified and he squeezed her breasts that lay perfectly in his palms. He could feel her reach down to unbutton his trousers and he lifted her slightly to lay her down on the bed and lay himself on top of her. He opened his trousers and let himself out and then reached in under her dress. He could feel her soft thighs and the soft hair around her opening, the heat and moistness aching from her. He pulled up her skirt and spread her legs and pushed himself inside her. She then reached up and kissed him, deeply as she let out as soft, quiet moan when he thrust into her.

She was so soft and her body clasped itself around him in such an intense and just perfect way. _Maker, she's killing me. How can I ever leave her again_?

* * *

After their short _talk_ , Rhiannon and Loghain returned to the study and Eleanor smiled at her, seemingly glad her daughter had calmed down. When it was time for dinner, the five of them gathered and ate a casual evening meal, talking about that they had seen so far. Rhiannon joked with Loghain about his seasickness and his, as she put it, _unfounded fear of water_.

Rhiannon knew her teasing him was unfair, she had grown up in Highever, close to the water and had learned to sail early in her life, and Loghain came from a simple life out on the fields. And, his fear of water was just like her own fear of heights. But he was amazingly fun to tease, since he had such a very serious streak about him.

Loghain and his captain stayed for three days and they mainly rested, preparing for their continued travelling out on the ocean, looking for any signs of Maric. Rhiannon and Loghain went on a small trip around the countryside during the one day Loghain had, free of needing to take care of business related to their travelling. It was nice being able to be alone with him, Rhiannon thought to her self as she watched him chew on a hard crust of bread, as they sat out by one of the cliffs with the Highland mountains towering behind them. They still had to sneak around quite a bit, even if touching each other in discreet ways was possible, but no kissing or any intimate signs of affection. On small trips like these, they could kiss freely; she could rest in his embrace without being scared of anyone walking in on them.

The reprimands wouldn't be very bad in any case, but a scandal, was always a scandal, in the eyes of the nobles. But soon it was merely a year until they were to be married, the time had rushed since they were betrothed, but it still seemed like such a long time left, until he was really hers and she was really his. She wanted nothing else but to be _his_ kin and belong with him – through blood. And tomorrow, he would leave again, _Maker have mercy_ , she did not want him to. But at the same time, she wanted him to find Maric, and bring him back home. She didn't want Maric to be _gone_ ; nobody wanted him to be gone.


	19. 16 Correspondence II

Chapter 16 – Correspondence part II

 _17_ _th_ _Bloomingtide, 9:25_

 _Dear Loghain,_

 _I have not had word from you in a month and neither has Denerim from what I have gathered. I am soon to travel to Denerim for the celebration of Summerday, but it will feel very strange without you being there. I do miss you immensely._

 _There has been very_

 _It has been very quiet here since you left again for Antiva, there has not been any news what so ever about anything, really. The only thing that has happened, that is even worth mentioning is that Oriana is with child, quite late gone as well, she must have fallen pregnant just after they married – or before, I do not know if I wish to think about it further. In any case, I am to become an aunt, which make me feel like an old lady._

 _Aside from becoming an old hag, I have kept up my training with ser Gilmore, but he keeps coddling me and does not dare to strike me hard enough, so I wi time, which is getting quite boring if I am to be honest. I was thinking about talking to ser Cauthrien once I am in Denerim to see if she could have some time to for sparring with me._

 _Come home soon. Maker's blessing._

 _Love,_

 _Rhiannon Cousland_

* * *

14th Justinian, 9:25

Antiva City, Antiva

Rhiannon,

My love, I am sorry that I have not been able to write, we have travelled through several storms and almost sank along side the antivan coast, but we are all right and quite safe among all the assassins in this very strange country. The food is surprisingly good, if you have not already, you should have Oriana cook you something from their kitchen, if she can that is. I do not know how well trained noble women are in the art of cookery, since you are the only woman of noble birth I have had some kind of longer relations with. Can you cook?

I think it sounds like a good idea to talk to ser Cauthrien, she should be glad to train with you, if nothing serious has erupted in Denerim by the time you get there.

And congratulations on becoming an aunt, you are certainly no old hag. Not yet, anyway, but hopefully you will live to become one.

I have enclosed a small birthday present for you from Antiva, since this letter will arrive shorty after your birthday. I regret I cannot be in Ferelden with you, but I will have to make up for that on your next birthday.

I miss you.

LMT

* * *

 _30_ _th_ _Justinian, 9:25_

 _Dear Loghain,_

 _Thank you so much for the beautiful earrings you sent me, they are absolutely gorgeous and the blue sapphires matches a diadem I have._

 _I am in Denerim at the moment and tonight there is one of those absolutely hideous banquets in the Denerim castle, I do not know why Arl Kendells insist on having them, he seems to hate them more than I do. He is such a dreadful man and his son is even worse, Vaughan. He is really turning into a nasty person; there are rumours about him assaulting young elven servants and that is a rumour I am actually prepared to believe. During a Salon the other night, he made a shameless pass at me out in the garden, knowing that I am betrothed to you. Fortunately Fergus and Nathaniel Howe came out into the garden just in time before he got really intrusive. Fergus threatened to kill him, I thought you would like to know that as well._

 _I have been to see ser Cauthrien and we have even sparred a few times already. She is simply marvellous, is she not? She is taking such good care of me and just like you, she is forcing me to use a shield during our training. I am to meet with her the day after tomorrow also, she is really pushing me._

 _I have been to see Estri a few times as well, she is pregnant. Everyone seems to suddenly be with child around me, but she seems content with the situation. Bann Renhold is not exactly an exciting man, but he treats her well and really pampers her, almost a bit too much. But what with her situation, I would say she deserves it._

 _And speaking of pregnant, Oriana's stomach has grown a lot during the last weeks and she is getting really big, which put's her in a foul mood, I have never been around a more hostile antivan before in my life. She threw an entire tray of wine and cheeses at Fergus a few days ago. I am a very bad sister, but I could not stop laughing. I think I will wait with asking her about the antivan cooking, chances are, she tries to kill me if I get too close. And yes, I do cook, but I doubt anyone would want to taste it._

 _Anora send her love and we both miss you._

 _Love,_

 _Rhiannon Cousland_

* * *

2nd August, 9:25

Dairsmuid, Rivain

My love,

Rhiannon, I am angry with myself for not being there to protect you. I should be, but I am not and that pains me beyond words. I will deal with Vaughan Kendells when I am back in Denerim. As you write, he is a menace, a very dangerous one at that. You could share what he did with your father, if Fergus has not done so already. Your father is also a Teyrn and as it stands now, acting regent while I am away. Nobleman, or the son of an Arl, it does not matter if one angers a Teyrn.

I trust you to do what you think is right, but know this, has nothing been done with Vaughan Kendells when I return, I will have him publicly humiliated and flogged.

Or it seems you could send Oriana to deal with him, she seems to be capable enough.

LMT 

* * *

10th August, 9:25

Seere, Eastern coast of Rivain

Rhiannon,

I have written to Denerim as well, we have found traces of what seems to be Maric's ship. We have found no bodies and we are still searching along the coastland.

LMT 

* * *

_4_ _th_ _Kingsway, 9:25_

 _Dear Loghain,_

 _That is lovely to hear, but at the same time it gives me a very bad feeling. I keep getting visions of Maric's body being washed ashore on a beach I do not recognise. I might sound like a lunatic at this point, but I have received signs from Andraste before, but then she has spoken to me, I have never had visions. Andraste did not speak to me during these visions, but I felt it to be true, nevertheless, and it scares me. I can only see his body, not if he is actually dead or alive._

 _I am in Denerim again and it has been the first day of the Landsmeet. Father had Vaughan Kendells publicly humiliated in front of the entire Landsmeet, but I must disappoint you by letting you know he did not have him flogged. Cailan had apparently suggested the pillory._

 _Oriana has moved over to a state of simply walking (or is it wobbling?) around and swearing in antivan. They have a marvellous language for swearing, there is so many nuances I had no idea even existed, and so many combinations of vulgar words put together, it is actually rather fascinating. I now spend my days following her around, which she finds utterly annoying and it only makes her swear even more, and learning all kinds of vulgar words. She does sound like she grew up in the gutter, I must say._

 _I hope to hear from you soon, your letters are what keep me going right now._

 _Love,_

 _Rhiannon Cousland_

* * *

10th Harvestmere, 9:25

Dalish camp, on the border between the Tevinter Imperium and Antiva

My love,

I write in a hurry since the messenger we found in this Dalish camp needs to return to Brynnlaw, I have yet to receive any more letters from you. I hope you are doing well and that it's only the delay of letters is due to the vast distance from here to any major city. Soon we will arrive in the Imperium, but we have had no more signs of Maric as of yet.

LMT 

* * *

_3_ _rd_ _Haring, 9:25_

 _Dear Loghain,_

 _It took quite some time for your letter to arrive. I do hope you have received my last letter by now. I did write about my visions of Maric, lying on the beach. I have not had any more visions, perhaps they were only meaningless dreams, I do not know for sure._

 _Oriana has given birth to a son, his name is Oren and he is lovely. He is huge and came out almost purple with a great big thatch of black hair on his head. He has large hazel brown eyes and the tiniest fingers and toes. Oriana kept screaming she was going to kill Fergus for putting her through this, but as Oren came out, she calmed down. However, she insists it almost killed her and I am inclined to believe her, that baby is very large. We were lucky we had a mage midwife who could put Oriana together again after that ordeal._

 _It made me think about when we have children, I cannot help but to be a bit worried about having to squeeze something that big out from down there. It seems impossible, really._

 _Since it hurt when you_

 _I should not write things like that in letters that can be read by others, should I? Probably not._

 _I miss you._

 _Love,_

 _Rhiannon Cousland_

* * *

14th Guardian, 9:26

Minrathous, Tevinter Imperium

My lovely Rhiannon,

You bring me such joy, I do hope you are aware of that. I have now received both your letters. The messengers are highly effective here in Tevinter, they found our ship easily.

I am glad to hear that both Oriana and Oren are fine and well, even Fergus even though he seems to have gotten himself a very strong minded wife, but so will I in the coming months. You best not throw wine and cheese at me though, you are already on my list of impudent young women, and do not forget that.

About your visions, they do worry me as well, we did find the wreck of Maric's ship, but since then we have not found anything else. We are to travel a bit further along the coasts of the Anderfels and the Qunari settlements, but we will only port in the Anderfels and the Tevinter part of the Qunari Islands.

I certainly hope you have not had any more problems with Vaughan Kendells, or I will have his head. Public shaming is usually very effective, but nevertheless, sometimes that just is not enough.

And do not worry about childbirth, you are a strong woman and you will do fine when the time comes, I am sure of that.

I miss you.

LMT 

* * *

_2_ _nd_ _Drakonis, 9:26_

 _Dear Loghain,_

 _You bring me joy as well, my love, even though you keep calling me impudent without any reason what so ever._

 _You will have to tell me about Tevinter when you get back to Ferelden. It is such a fascinating and strange imperium. I must say, their messengers are effective, to travel from Minrathous to Denerim in two weeks time. I even had a chance to practise my tevinter with the messenger as he is waiting here in the palace to bring this letter back to you, as you wrote you would be laying port in the Tevinter held areas of the Qunari Islands._

 _I have only seen Vaughan Kendells from a distance since the incident in Justinian last year. He stares at me, but does not try to talk or come close at all._

 _Anora asked me to enclose a letter from her as well, she has already sent another copy of it to you, but she was not sure of your location, so she asked me to enclose it with my letter as well._

 _Love,_

 _Rhiannon Cousland_

* * *

2nd Drakonis, 9:26

Denerim Palace

Father,

I urge you to return home, our funds are running out and the discontent among the nobles is growing. Teyrn Cousland and I can no longer argue that the search for Maric is needed. We have no other choice but to declare him dead and hold a state funeral.

Anora Mac Tir


	20. 17 Tomorrow comes a day too soon

Chapter 17 – Tomorrow comes a day too soon

21th Bloomingtide, 9:26

Denerim

 _So I will pave this road till glory, set our broken spirit free. From every cross-soaked nail pours endless rain, with tears no eye should see. But they could fill our highest ocean and the rivers in between. Every blade that flowers must grow then drowns with love, in our cruellest sea._

 _She told you I would betray you_ , Loghain thought as the ships moored in the port of Denerim. _I failed you, I should have found you, but I couldn't_. He sighed deeply as he watched the city unfold before him. The stench from the harbour reached into his lungs as he watched the dockworkers and whores mixing with soldiers leaving the ships. He could see his daughter wait for him in a carriage further away, ready to take him home. Loghain had spent one year and five months on the sea, in total, searching everywhere he could in the known world, but he couldn't find Maric anywhere. He felt hopeless, why had he even tried? _Because I wouldn't betray you_. He wished he wouldn't, but it sure felt like he had betrayed him. It felt as if Maric's disappearance and Loghain's failure to bring him home had cut a hole in his heart that probably never would mend.

He walked along the pier as he looked around the docks. He felt so tired, so exhausted – he couldn't possibly remember the last time he felt this exhausted. He had no adrenaline left in his body, no air left in his lungs and it felt as if his heart had stopped pumping blood through his body.

He had spent months on end watching the different colours of the sea, looking over beach after beach, seen every kind of sand he could possibly imagine. He'd seen the strangest animals both in the ocean and on land, he'd puked over the railing so many times he'd lost count and almost been killed by storms and pirates. He had been away from the two persons he loved for a year, he hadn't seen Anora for a year and a half, and he would do it all again and more, if it meant bringing Maric back home. He could feel his heart breaking as he walked towards the carriage. He was done; there was nothing more he could possibly _do_. He'd have to learn to live with that, that he couldn't do anything else no matter how much he wanted to. Maric had more or less gone up in smoke, except for the ship that carried him. But neither his men nor himself could be found. He could of course continue search by land, but that would take years and surely have him killed, eventually. Perhaps it was as Rhiannon has hissed to him in her anger over a year ago in Highever, that he was in a prison cell in Orlais. _Or, he is dead_.

"Father", Anora stepped out of the carriage and reached out to hug him and kiss him on the cheek, "You're finally home, thank the Maker"

"Yes", was all Loghain could muster. He could feel that his eyes were undeservedly cold towards Anora, but he couldn't even try to pretend he wasn't so exhausted it was a miracle his legs still even held him up.

"Come on, let's go home, shall we?" Anora said and climbed into the carriage after Loghain.

On the way to the Gwaren Estate they sat in silence in the carriage and when they arrived at the Estate Loghain went straight in to his bedchambers and swigged two glasses of whiskey, before stooping into his bed.

He could distantly hear how a servant fidgeted with something in his room before sneaking out as fast as was possible. Then he could hear voices downstairs, it sounded like Anora and Rhiannon, he heard some dull thumps that seemed to echo in the walls, and then he fell asleep. Enchanting sleep, drifting deep into the fade.

* * *

When Rhiannon arrived at the Gwaren Estate after receiving word from Anora that the three ships had been spotted returning to the Denerim port, she learned that Loghain had gone straight up to his room, seemingly not wanting to be disturbed and Rhiannon could understand that. Anora however, looked devastated.

"He looked miserable, I have never seen him that destroyed before" Anora said as they sat down in the couch in the Gwaren Estates library. "He didn't look like my father, he looked haunted"

"He's had a long, hard travel. And he returned empty-handed, I can understand that he's taking it very hard" Rhiannon said, "And he loved Maric"

"He did, still does, I suppose" Anora sighed, "We still don't know what has happened to him"

"No, it's all very curious" Rhiannon nodded, "How is Cailan doing, during the circumstances? I haven't seen him since I was last in the city", she asked to keep up appearance. She _hadn't_ seen Cailan since she had arrived in Denerim, but she had found out what it was that Cailan _was_ up to, with his glances. Loghain had been gone for a year, and both Cailan and Rhiannon were despicable fiancées.

"Not very good, I'm afraid" Anora shook her head, "Now I have two depressed men to take care of, Maker help me"

"You know very well that I will help you Anora" Rhiannon said and took Anora's hand into her palms, and indeed she would – her own actions left her no choice. In her foolishness, she found herself loving both Loghain and Cailan. "I may not be the Maker, but I _can_ help, and I _will_ "

"You have indeed become a dear friend, Rhiannon, it make's me so very happy" Anora seemed to try and smile kindly, but failed just as miserably as her father would. _A good friend indeed. I'm so sorry, Anora_.

"And me as well, Anora" Rhiannon said and squeezed her hand, "Very much so"

They sat in the couch for a while, not saying much at all, but more keeping each other company and resting from all the turmoil. Rhiannon felt an ache in her chest for Loghain and very much for Cailan and she wanted to be with them both, however, if she was to be with someone, it was with her fiancée. She pushed away her guilt towards Anora, as she always did and focused on being her friend – as she truly was. As the sun began to go down a servant came and asked if they wanted dinner and Anora was persistent of Rhiannon staying for dinner. Rhiannon sent a message with a servant to the Cousland Estate about her staying with Anora during the evening and also possibly the night, since she was devastated from the whole ordeal. Later that evening Bryce came by to assess the situation and found Rhiannon and Anora back in the library, drinking wine and talking.

"Good evening ladies" Bryce said as he walked into the library.

"Teyrn Cousland, good evening" Anora tried one of her failing smiles again and looked up at the Teyrn.

"Good evening, father" Rhiannon said and reached her hand out for her father to grasp it, "Please, sit down with us"

"How are you doing Anora?" Bryce asked.

"Well, Rhiannon has made sure I've eaten a bit. It is always harder not to eat if one has company, is it not?"

"Indeed, it is. I am glad to hear that Rhiannon's been giving you some comfort" Bryce said and smiled towards Anora and his daughter. "Where's Teyrn Mac Tir?"

"I am afraid he hasn't left his room since he arrived back, I suppose he is sleeping" Anora said, "I sent a servant up with food an hour or so ago, and he told me father was still sleeping"

"He's taking it hard, I guess that's not very surprising, is it?" Bryce said and squeezed his daughter's hand.

"Would you like some wine, father?" Rhiannon asked.

"No, no, there's no need, I just wanted to check in on you for the night. I'm returning to the palace and Cailan in a moment. I suppose you are staying and helping Anora, until the Teyrn has rested?"

"If you want me to stay, Anora, I will" Rhiannon said and looked at Anora.

"Yes, that would be very kind" Anora nodded. "I just feel completely at loss as to what I can do. Both with father and with Cailan"

"It is not your burden alone, Anora" Bryce said and looked into Anora's eyes. "You have us, we will soon be family, and I don't see why we can't start that a little early by acting as such when there's dire need for it"

"Thank you Teyrn" Anora sighed, as if she held back a sob.

"If you ever need anything, you can always come to Eleanor and myself" Bryce nodded towards Anora.

"And remember, you are a strong woman, Anora, you will get through this as a whole person. Maker, you're possibly the only one with some control over Cailan, _that_ , if anything, is damn right impressive" Rhiannon smiled softly, ignoring her feeling of guilt.

"It certainly is", Bryce chuckled. "Well then, I'm going to be on my way, do you need anything from home, Rhiannon?"

"No, I'll be fine. I'll sleep in my shift, and I guess you have a guest quarter tucked away here somewhere, yes?" Rhiannon smiled and looked at Anora.

"Of course, I'll have a servant ready it" she nodded and straightened her back. "Thank you for stopping by, Teyrn Cousland, and for your kind words"

"It was nothing, I assure you. I'll see you tomorrow, pup" Bryce said and then left for the palace. 

* * *

Anora had the guest quarters prepared for Rhiannon during the evening, but they stayed up quite late, simply talking, much about their memories of Maric. Rhiannon's clearest memory of him was that time in the back garden at the Cousland Estate when she was six years old and fell asleep in the King's lap. Anora sniggered softly when Rhiannon told her about that, or when she was eight and had insisted that she would marry Loghain.

"If it's not too painful for you, I would really like to know more about your mother, Celia" Rhiannon said and sipped some wine.

"Oh, not at all, it is just seldom someone actually asks about her" Anora answered and looked down on her hands. "What would you like to know?"

"Nothing specific, really, just _about_ her. How was she?"

"Well," Anora cleared her throat, "I'm told I look a lot like her, she was tall and slim, with the same blond hair as I have, but with a different face. I guess I inherited my fathers facial features"

"You and me both", Rhiannon smiled.

"She loved roses, she would spend as much time as she could in the garden during spring, summer and early autumn. My father could never understand that, he's never liked flowers or gardening. He actually even killed an entire rosebush just by touching it, once"

"Just by touching it? I can't believe that" Rhiannon smirked.

"He did, and he felt so bad about it, that he brought a new one back for my mother from Denerim. Apparently the thorns had made a complete mess, ripping up his skin under his coat during the ride back to Gwaren, but he was determined to give her a new one" Anora smiled softly and sighed.

"He must have really loved her, since he's waited so long to remarry. He didn't even want to marry me to begin with" Rhiannon chuckled softly.

"He didn't?" Anora looked surprised, "I didn't know that"

"It was Maric's idea, he more or less forced him to agree to it, for what reason I don't actually know"

"Typical Maric", Anora smirked and laughed softly.

"But how was Celia, as a person?" Rhiannon said curiously.

"She was kind, but quiet. She rarely spoke. I used to find it utterly annoying as a child, because it felt like she was ignoring me. Of course, I've realised later that she wasn't, she just didn't speak unless she had something to say. And she almost never got angry or mad, that was almost worse, she became cold instead, shutting you out without a word and disappearing into her own world of roses and paintings.

"I remember one time when I had stolen her prepared colours that she used for her painting and I had tried to 'decorate' the fireplace in father's study. It was before he moved to Denerim and I must have been about five years old, and mother discovered me, but she simply stared at me with empty eyes as if she was just disappointed, and I remember that it really hurt. Then father came and saw what I had done and he started raving and dragged me to the kitchens to clean my hands. He scolded me the entire time and also while he forced me to remove the paint, of course he helped me clean it off. But when that was done, he wasn't angry anymore, I had been punished and got an earful and that was that. But mother, she retained her disappointed empty eyes for several days and hardly spoke to me at all. I even think father got mad at her for it, as well" Anora sighed and drank some of her wine. "She was just very, hard to get to know, even as her child. But she was nice when she was in a good mood. She taught me about flowers, gardening, even cooking and painting. When father had left for Denerim, we used to spend the evenings talking and she told me of old fereldan folk tales and stories about the old pagan gods. She was a good storyteller, and she had a kind heart, even though she rarely showed it."

"I get that feeling when Loghain speaks of her" Rhiannon said softly.

"He speaks of mother?"

"Sometimes, not much. He rarely speaks much at all, really, but if I ask, he tends to tell me a little at a time"

"Yes, he's like that" Anora sighed.

"But I've noticed he never talks about his mother, your paternal grandmother. He's only mentioned her name, Elia"

"Well, yes, there's a reason he rarely talks about her. She died, in a very cruel fashion" Anora said and Rhiannon noticed her eyes were filled with pain.

"I suspected as much, you don't have to tell me. If he want's me to know, he'll tell me himself"

"Yes, I believe he will" Anora twisted her lips, "Well, should we see if your room is ready? I'm beginning to feel rather tired"

"That sounds like a good idea" Rhiannon nodded. 

* * *

Rhiannon could hear Anora closing the door to her quarters on the top floor of the estate and she peeked into her assigned room. However, she thought it best to check on Loghain before she went to bed. Was he still breathing? She hadn't seen him for a year and he had slept since they arrived back this afternoon.

She opened the door to his quarters and both rooms were completely darkened, so she went into her guestroom and fetched a burning candle so that she could light a few candles in Loghain's quarters. He couldn't lie there in complete darkness.

She lit a few candles in his adjoining small study before she walked into his bedroom and lit a wall chandelier and a small lantern by his bed. She could see his chest moving up and down as he lay on his back in the bed, sometimes he let out a snore and his face flinched a little. One of his arms hung over the edge of his bed and the other was stretched over his stomach. He hadn't even taken his boots off or his coat, if it weren't for the odd snore, flinch and his regular breathing, she'd almost suspect that he actually _was_ dead. His long black hair was slightly tousled against the pillows, but he still had both his braids intact. Rhiannon sat down beside him in the bed and watched him for a while, before she stroked his hand resting softly on his stomach.

"Loghain", she said in a soft voice, "You're not dead are you?" He flinched a little, but kept breathing deeply. She pushed him a little and squeezed his hand.

"What!?" He hissed and opened his eyes, at first he looked completely confused as he rose from his back to sit up, then he seemed to focus his eyes on Rhiannon and he reached out to her and drew one of her curls through his hand. Then he pulled her to him and they embraced, Rhiannon reached her arms around his neck and buried her face against him. Loghain stretched his arms out over her back and let his face sink into her thick curls.

"I've missed you so awfully much, Loghain" Rhiannon sighed with relief.

"Where did you come from?" He asked, still holding on to her tightly.

"I've been here since you came back"

"You have?" He kissed her cheek and then breathed into her hair again.

"Yes, I've been talking with Anora, we had dinner and my father came by"

"What's the time? It must be late"

"I think it's past midnight, the moon is high up in the sky"

"Then why are you still here? You can't walk home by yourself this late" Loghain stoked his hands over her back.

"I'm staying the night, Anora wanted me to. She's worried about you, you know"

"I can imagine" Loghain sighed. "You're staying in the guest quarters?"

"Yes, they've prepared them for me, I just wanted to make sure that you were still alive"

"Sweet Rhiannon", Loghain said and loosened his grip around her a little, and kissed her lips softly. "You better go to bed then, I'm obviously not dead, I hope" he smirked.

"No, you seem very much alive, thank the Maker" Rhiannon smiled and kissed him. "But you need to at least take your boots of, before you go back to sleep, Teyrn Mac Tir"

"I will comply, Lady Rhiannon" he smiled, "Now, off you go. We can't have the servants talking too much"

"Good night, my love" Rhiannon leaned in and kissed him deeply, before she left for the guest quarters. 

* * *

He must have been completely drained and utterly exhausted, Loghain thought as he woke up from the forenoon sun blinding him through the windows. How late could it possibly be? He could hear the noises from outside in the market and the dull sounds of servants working downstairs. His body felt stiff and sore, even though he didn't have any injuries, perhaps he was simply getting old.

Loghain was still dressed since yesterday, but he had taken off his boots before falling asleep again, after Rhiannon had gone to her guest chamber. It had been the most surreal feeling of waking up, without the world seemingly spinning or at least moving a little bit, with _her_ sitting on the bedside. He had noticed her looking just a bit different, not much, but her cheekbones had become more pronounced and she had a more serious streak in her complexion. The last year had certainly been difficult for Loghain, and what was to say it hadn't been difficult for Rhiannon and the others who had to wait back home?

As he walked down the stairs, he could hear the noise of cutlery and food being cooked, and he realized just how hungry he was. He was greeted by Arlethan, who welcomed him home, since he hadn't greeted the poor man yesterday, he'd been too tired, simply too tired for anything. He found Anora and Rhiannon sitting in the dining room, having lunch and went and sat down at the table with them.

"Are you feeling better, father?" Anora smiled to him.

"Yes, I needed sleep" Loghain answered and were served some stew by an elven servant.

"I can imagine", Rhiannon said, "I only wish you could have some time to rest some more, my father is coming by this afternoon, they are summoning the Landsmeet in a weeks time"

"Well, then I'll have a week to prepare" Loghain twisted his lips, "There's not much to say in any case"

"I am guessing the Landsmeet will feel different", Anora stirred her spoon in her pot of stew.

"Yes. Of course", Loghain sighed, "Rhiannon, I would like to speak to you later, in private"

"Certainly", Rhiannon nodded and took a spoonful of the brown boar-stew and reached to dip some bread in the sauce.

Loghain couldn't help looking at her, across the table. She had changed, but in a very good way, she still had her soft streaks, with small almost slightly chubby hands, even though they now were the hands of a woman. Her hair had become a little redder than it was before, but it was still very much dark brown and very long. She had it braided and pulled up, with a large orlesian braid hanging down over her shoulder. The braid itself reached almost to her navel and the hair at the end curled itself over the small leather lace that held the braid together. 

* * *

After the lunch Rhiannon walked to Loghain's study to wait for him, since he'd asked to speak to her. After a few minutes he came in and closed the door behind him, locking it in the process. Rhiannon was almost startled as he lifted her up slightly in a combined embrace and deep kiss. _But she had missed this so much, she had dreamed about it, for weeks, months, for a year_. What she had done with Cailan just wasn't the same thing; it was something else, something more light-hearted, more pleasure and less emotion. It was something _forbidden_ for them both, for several reasons. She was weak, indeed, very weak – but with Cailan, at least she was in the good company of week royal blood, seeing as they _were_ distant cousins.

Loghain pushed her up on the desk, spread her legs and pulled up her skirt and in what only seemed like a few seconds, he forced himself inside her. _Finally, blood of my blood_. He took her with force on the desk and they tried to stay as quiet as possible, breathing into each other's necks, Rhiannon grasped his shoulders and his hands held a steady grip on her hips. He felt so perfect and so large it pained her slightly; she had not been prepared for this, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that they were once again one, just as they were supposed to be.

After some pushing and thrusting, silent moaning and several deep kisses, Loghain released himself inside her for the first time. His groan, together with the feeling she got when his whole body tensed up for a few seconds, made her shiver in the most sensational way. When he relaxed, he kissed her, _and kissed her_. And all she could possibly do was answer his kisses and tousle his hair as they held their embrace for a long time.


	21. 18 A warrior's testimony

Chapter 18 – A warrior's testimony

18th Justinian, 9:26

Denerim

Even though it was the middle of summer, the weather was gloomy and the sky cloudy over Denerim, as Ferelden mourned their Rebellion King, Maric the Saviour. The pyre that burned before Ferelden's nobles and the Denerim town folk this day was empty, there was no body to be burned. It was a symbolic funeral, held for someone who vanished at sea; to help the ones who loved him to move on. _We need a release, otherwise we will not be able to mourn the loss of him. We will continue to live in a vacuum, not allowing ourselves to grieve and our lives will never move forward_. Anora had addressed the Landsmeet and the decision had been taken, no one had protested, Loghain had sat silent in his chair by the throne. Bryce had sat as silent in his own chair on the other side of the throne.

 _They are both gone and he had loved them both, perhaps too much_ , Loghain thought, _neither Rowan nor Maric is here anymore_. Had he betrayed him? _Each time worse than the last_.

 _Blasted bitch of a witch_. If he didn't know better, Loghain could bet gold on that the blighted witch of the wilds had something to do with Maric's disappearance. He stood by the side of the burning pyre, with Rhiannon on his side, they were to be married in less than two months and he hadn't even considered the thought that Maric wouldn't sit there in the Denerim Chantry while the Revered Mother tied Rhiannon's and his cut up wrists together. It was Maric who had talked him into marry Rhiannon and Loghain found he was thankful for his insufferable nagging, it was however too late for thanks. Wherever Maric was, he was not _here_. He was no longer Ferelden's King.

Cailan and Anora had married last week and Cailan were to be crowned King tomorrow and Anora would become Queen consort. She had no royal blood and could therefore not become _Queen_ in the true sense, but she would rule as a Queen beside Cailan and Loghain saw it as necessary. Cailan had become impossible as he grew up, he was impulsive and seemed unhealthily fascinated by glorious tales of large battles and heroes. Loghain couldn't understand were it came from, this fascination. Loghain had spent a larger part of his adult life helping Maric raising the lad, after Rowan died, but neither Maric nor Loghain held this absurd fascination. Perhaps it had to do with his father's legacy, it wouldn't be easy for anyone to live up to Maric the Saviour – nevertheless for Cailan. It was easy enough for a young man who had never lived through the utter horrors of a real war to glorify great battles. Loghain cared deeply for the prince, soon to be King, but he also couldn't escape the bad feeling he got about Cailan as _King_. How two so capable people as Rowan and Maric, could have a child so _in_ capable, Loghain could not understand. He had always held an unrealistically deep love for Maric, and he had loved Rowan once, during a very vast time, but it was still painful to think about, so he pushed those thoughts away.

* * *

 _Langsyne, when life was bonnie_

 _An' a' the warl was fair,_

 _The leaves were green wi' simmer,_

 _For autumn wasna there._

 _But listen hoo they rustle,_

 _Wi' an eerie, weary soun',_ _  
_ _For noo, alas, 'tis winter_

 _That gangs a twalmonth roun'._

Rhiannon closed the small leather bound book and sighed as she shifted her position in the armchair. This day was awful, utterly awful. Not that anyone else seemed to notice, the normal ensemble of nobles stood in small groups all over the throne room and chatted as if it was just a normal festivity – a somewhat quiet celebration of sorts. But it wasn't, was it? It was a faux funeral, Maric was given _one day_ , in remembrance and people had pretended to look sad enough down by the pyre. They had struggled to look sad during the procession and it was obvious it's all a great big faux, allowing the Landsmeet to grant Cailan his throne with a clean conscience, not caring about how _Cailan_ felt about it. How could Loghain just let this pass? He stood there, in his corner looking like he always does. _Maker_ , he could aggravate her sometimes, Rhiannon thought. He simply pushes away anything that's too hard for him to handle and drinks, or works, or gets himself into a fit.

Loghain is the one person she can think of to actually _say_ something, but why doesn't he? He had told her, that he was _not_ giving up on Maric, but he has. That is why he's been like a living ghost for the last month. He has wanted her, several times, and she has let him have her, because during those few small moments, he has been almost alive again. Kissing her her with passion, touching her and pouring out his heart to her. But then, he closes again, falls silent and returns to work. Hopefully, he would soon enough return to his own self. She just needed to practice her patience – which was easier said than done, most of the time.

 _Those lousy bastardly common nobles, how dare they_?

"Rhiannon, are you all right?" Loghain's chillingly ice blue eyes looked down on her, as his voice and the touch of his hand against her shoulder startled her. He didn't smile or express anything with his eyes apart from dimness and some slight intoxication from the whiskey he had been pouring into himself since they arrived to the palace. She couldn't blame him, after all. But she had lost her taste for wine, at least today. Everything seemed to taste like ashes. Everything _felt_ like ashes today. Perhaps she could convince him to taker her in his study, perhaps she could feel something then? And if he was too drunk and filled with sorrow, she could possibly convince Cailan to take care of her. Was that really a healthy way to handle mourning? Rhiannon speculated within her own thoughts as she looked into Loghain's glum eyes.

"Yes, thank you. You know how these things are" She sighed and curved her lips in an attempted smile.

"Yes", he answered in a dry tone.

"Would you take a walk with me? Or really, anything to get out of here for a mere moment" Rhiannon looked up at the tall man before her, with his long black hair and rugged face, ghostly pale with dark shadows under his eyes. He had the most gorgeous eyes; they were highly intimidating, but nevertheless gorgeous, at least to her.

"Gladly", he swigged the last from his _mug_ of whiskey. Had he lost all sense by the time he stepped of that ship?

Rhiannon reached her arm in under his as they walked towards the palace garden. One could certainly not notice he was somewhat drunk; he kept a steady pace as they walked and he cleared his throat several times while they walked.

"What was it you were reading?" He asked and looked to the side, down at her.

"It was a collection of old fereldan poetry. The last one I read was about thinking of what once was, but has passed. I guess it is quite fitting, for today"

"Indeed" Loghain clenched his jaw.

"How are you doing, really?" Rhiannon asked in a hushed voice, stopping his pace by tightening her grip of his arm. "You're drunk, and you look miserable"

"Yes", he said, completely without emotion staring empty at her.

"Well?"

"Well, _what_?" His tone was dry, short and had a hint of arrogance, not that it didn't usually have _more_ than a hint of arrogance, but not towards her.

"You worry me, that's all"

"I know", he said.

"Do you sleep, at all? Or are you going to force me to sneak between your estate and my parent's to force feed you and tuck you into bed every evening?" Rhiannon tried to smirk a little towards him.

"As much as I would indeed enjoy that, it seems foolish to anger your father, only two months before our wedding" Loghain snorted. Finally, a somewhat consistent sentence, Rhiannon thought to herself.

"You don't seem to fear angering him when you take me in your study" Rhiannon whispered with mischievous eyes.

"Hush yourself, woman" Loghain smirked slightly and looked down to her. "Typical Maric to disappear and leave me with a strong-willed impudent wife"

"Quite the gift, isn't it?" Rhiannon turned to Loghain and put her hands on his chest.

"It is, very much" Loghain said and stroked the curve of her neck softly and smiled crookedly.

"Teyrn Mac Tir?" A hushed male voice cleared its throat behind Loghain. It was Arl Howe, the Arl of Amaranthine. Rhiannon did _not_ like that man. He had wanted to marry her off to one of his sons since she was born, much like Arl Eamon had wanted Maric and Cailan to break of Cailan's betrothal to Anora. She seemed to be nothing more than a brick in a political gamble to all the men at court, and she was ever thankful to Maric for getting Loghain to agree to marry her, saving her from being only a piece of flesh to be sold to the highest bidder since she couldn't marry Cailan. She would have gladly married him now, but the thought of leaving Loghain and having Cailan divorce Anora made her feel sick. Loghain and Cailan were the only two men at court who didn't treat her like chattel; even her _father_ had treated her bad. Somehow, her betrothal to Loghain had felt sincere from the start – even though it was arranged; Loghain and herself were equals politically and socially, which she wouldn't have been with Cailan. A Teyrn and Teyrna were equals, a King and Queen – even if she'd been a true Queen, not just queen-consort, would have been beneath the king in hierarchy as long as he was alive. Perhaps she was somewhat higher socially than Loghain, as she had Calenhad-blood, but Loghain was still the second most powerful man in Ferelden, regardless of his common bloodline. He didn't _need_ to marry her for political power, and he didn't care for social status – Cailan would have needed to marry her for political status, she would have strengthened his throne and the Crown. Unfortunately, as much as she liked Anora and loved Loghain, Arl Eamon was right in that the throne was weaker with Anora as queen-consort, instead of Rhiannon as Queen. But Rhiannon couldn't deny that Anora made a better queen than herself. Obviously, Rhiannon made a good mistress to the King, even though she'd never thought she'd ever end up as one, especially not as she was betrothed to the realms greatest and most infamous general.

If Loghain had cared about social status, however, he made damn sure not to show it. He made no secret of his dislike of most nobles and he seemed thankful that his Teyrnir was situated in the middle of two large forests, far away from his Arlings and Bannorns. Most nobles were suspicious towards him and his constant foul mood and taciturn person, and they thought him hard to read. But most of them respected him for his role in freeing Ferelden, and so _they_ wanted to be on his good side. In reality, Loghain didn't seem to care who was on who's good side, as long as they kept their distance. Which, Arl Howe seemed content on _not_ doing.

"Arl Howe, what can I do for you?" Loghain sighed and turned away from Rhiannon, still keeping a hand on her back. Arl Howe flinched slightly when Loghain met his gaze and he looked nervous.

"My lady" Howe looked at Rhiannon before turning to Loghain again, "I was hoping to have a word with you" Howe's hands were wincing, for some reason. He was usually very much more confident in his manners, even though the man was a slithery snake. "About something rather, _sensitive_ "

"And it can't wait, I suppose? Since you disturb me with it during Maric's wake" Loghain answered dryly.

"I am afraid not, it concerns Cailan" Loghain sighed deeply at Howe's words. Rhiannon froze slightly when she heard it was about Cailan. _What had he got himself into now?_ She thought to herself.

"I see, I'll meet you in my study shortly" Loghain nodded for Howe to leave, but the Arl seemed to ponder something in is mind. " _Thank you_ , Arl Howe"

"Ah yes, of course" Howe flinched again and turned on his heel.

"I'll walk you back, if you don't want to stay in the garden for a while?" Loghain said and turned to Rhiannon again. He cupped her cheek in his palm and kissed her forehead.

"I'll return to the old fereldan poetry in the meantime", Rhiannon said and tried to control her reaction to the fact that Howe wanted to _report_ something to Loghain about _Cailan_. "That Howe is a rotten bastard, even though he is my father's friend" Rhiannon whispered as they returned to the castle.

"He is, yes" Loghain nodded, "Unfortunately as useful such, and I think I already know what it is about". Rhiannon swallowed and felt a pressure in her chest, but kept looking straight ahead as they walked.

"What's it about?" Rhiannon asked trying to look curious, towards Loghain.

"I'll tell you another time. This is really not the place" Loghain sighed and led Rhiannon back into the throne room, before he gave her a nod and walked to his study.

As Rhiannon watched Loghain leave, she looked around the room, trying to find Cailan, but of course – he was nowhere to be found. _Damn it, Cailan_. After a few minutes she rose and started to walk around, seeing if she could possibly sneak to the private quarters of the palace, where she'd surely find Cailan. There were hidden passages all over the castle, leading to the private quarters and Rhiannon soon found one behind a large painting in the western corridor and she followed to stairs up, carefully listening for sounds around her.

When she'd arrived at the floor of the royal private quarters, she peaked out and saw no servants or guards and she walked silently over to the door of Cailan's quarters. He had three rooms at the end of the floor, lying by themselves – just as Maric's quarters in the other end of the floor. She listened carefully outside his door, but she couldn't hear anything and since she didn't want to alert a servant or guard by knocking, she stepped in and closed the door silently behind her. This secrecy wasn't really necessary, since she was considered a friend to Cailan and specially to Anora, but considering that Cailan had _done_ something that required Loghain's attention – it's _not_ good that she's sneaking around his quarters. Rhiannon knew very well what Cailan had possibly done; she just did _not_ want Loghain to know what _they_ had done for a few months. Hopefully it was regarding one of the knife-eared servants she now found him fondling the tits of in his bedroom. The blonde elven servant was straggling him, as he sat at the edge of the bed, with his chest bare and his trousers unbuttoned. The elf's dress was pulled down her shoulders and she made little moaning noises.

Rhiannon sighed as she leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms over her chest. " _Leave_ us", she said and looked at the elf as Cailan flinched in surprise and almost threw the poor servant off his lap.

"Rhiannon", he looked surprised and actually ashamed. Strange, Rhiannon thought to herself. "This…"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, your majesty", Rhiannon smirked as she watched the elf nervously pull her dress up over her shoulders and staring strangely at Rhiannon. "Did I not tell you to leave, knife-ear?" Rhiannon hissed towards the servant. Before the elf quickly made her way out of Cailan's bedroom, Rhiannon grabbed her arm and hissed into her ear, "If you tell _anyone_ that you saw me here, I'll fucking burn the alienage down, do you understand?"

The elf nodded with fear in her large green eyes and then left with haste. Rhiannon walked over to Cailan and stood before him and looked at him.

"Rhia, I'm sorry", Cailan said and put his hands of her hips. His long blonde hair was pulled back from his temples and braided behind his head and slightly tousled over one of his shoulders. He actually blushed a little and had an uncertainty in his eyes as he looked up at her.

"What do you have to be sorry about?" Rhiannon stroked his cheek, he had some stubble on his sharp cheek and chin. His features were gorgeous, he had certainly inherited the best from both Maric and Rowan and since he had grown up, he looked mighty – like a king. Just like Maric had looked. He was so much like Maric it ached slightly inside Rhiannon. "I can't blame you for wanting some relaxation on a day like this, my love"

"I'm just sorry you had to see it" Cailan sighed and leaned against Rhiannon's abdomen, "You know I love you, so very dearly, but I can't stand you being with _him_ "

"You have no choice in _that_ matter, Cailan", Rhiannon stroked his hair as he leaned on her, "It is how it must be and I love you both. I just wish you could find some solace in Anora and not these elven whores. Who knows what kind of diseases they carry?"

"You're really an utter bitch sometimes, do you know that?" Cailan looked up at her with anger in his large blue eyes. His chiselled nose really complemented his face, with his thin eyebrows and full lips.

"Yes, I know", Rhiannon sighed. "If you go wash up, I might lay with you, but I need to speak with you first"

"What about?" Cailan raised an eyebrow and stroked her hips.

"Arl Howe approached me and Loghain in the gardens just now, telling Loghain _you_ had done something, and they walked off together. I certainly hope it does not involve _us_ "

Cailan groaned and fell back on the bed with his hands over his face. "I can't imagine it's about _us_. I've never been this discreet with anything, Rhia. Even though I want nothing else but parade the knowledge of me sleeping with you to that miserable bastard you're marrying"

" _Cailan_ , don't talk about him like that", Rhiannon sighed and sat down on the bed beside Cailan. "I love him, just as I love you. You and I fell in love a bit too late and even though we had fallen in love earlier, it wouldn't have changed _anything_. You and Anora have been betrothed for 19 years, and now you are married. You've been meaning to marry since _before_ I was born"

"And that makes my feelings what, futile?" Cailan looked out from under his hands.

"No, they're not. I need you, that you know and I _wish_ we could have married, but it's never been our choice. We are cursed by our Calenhad blood, we never even had a chance to chose"

"I simply wish we didn't have to sneak around _this_ much. It's absurd, in a few more hours I'm the King, Maker damn it", Cailan groaned and sat back up.

"So, what is it that you've supposedly done this time, my love?" Rhiannon asked and stroked his hand.

"I suppose it has something to do with some servant. You are the only one of my lovers who's known about the secret passages. I'm not even sure Anora knows, so you should be safe"

"Good", Rhiannon smiled and braided her fingers with Cailan's. "I don't want to lose you, you know"

Cailan leaned into Rhiannon and kissed her, deeply, "No more whores, I promise, my love".

* * *

"Well, you know how the boy is, ever impulsive", Howe winced before Loghain, shifting his gaze between Loghain and some unknown points in his study. Loghain sighed and leaned down in his armchair behind his desk, clasping his hands in his lap, focusing his eyes on the slithery Arl.

"Say what you came to say, Arl Howe"

"It is of course hard to say this, as he from tomorrow is our King" Howe paused, "And married to your daughter, since but a week". Loghain took a deep breath and stretched his neck while letting out a small hiss; he knew exactly what this was about - Cailan's unscrupulous fondness for female servants, especially of the elven sort. It was nothing he didn't already know and Anora accepted it, as long as it was kept quiet, but since _Arl Howe_ of all people knew about it, it hadn't been kept very quiet, _damn that boy_. "One of my servants has kin working here in the palace, you see. And it seems this _kin_ , is with child". Loghain eyes widened in a threatening stare at Arl Howe, which made the Arl take a deep breath and fidget.

"And she claims the child is Cailan's?" Loghain said in a calm dry voice. The child probably was Cailan's, it wouldn't surprise him in the least, considering the boys heritage. He wouldn't be the first King to produce a bastard and certainly not the first King of his line that _Loghain_ had to help hide a bastard from an elven woman. _Damn you Maric and your retched loins, is this the heritage you leave behind_?

"Indeed, she does. I however find it easy enough to deny this preposterous accusations – there are, however, people in high places who would be more than happy to take advantage" Howe started to pace, seemingly slithering.

"Is that so?" Loghain crossed his arms over his chest as he sat in his armchair, his legs widespread and back leaning comfortably against the backrest.

"So, as my duty to my King and country, I felt it best to seek out the regent, which still is _you_ " Howe smirked shamelessly.

"Yes, it is, for a few more hours" Loghain noted. "Have you considered what to do about your servants _kin_?"

"Well, you see, I wanted to speak to you about it first, before I acted. Since she is a servant of the Palace, and not the Amaranthine castle"

Of course it was an easy enough thing to lie about for an unwed pregnant servant, hoping to save herself by claiming the King as the father of her child, knowing the prince's fondness for her _kind_. Specially if the father of her child were human and of the blonde, blue-eyed kind. Either way, she would have to be dealt with, of course the servants had been gossiping amongst each other, after Cailan already had taken several of them to his private quarters, but no matter the child's parentage – Cailan could _not_ have someone even claiming to be his bastard.

"Leave me her name and description, I'll take care of it" Loghain said dryly and nodded to the viper in front of him.

"Naturally, Teyrn Mac Tir", Howe bowed before he scribbled down a name and short description on a small piece of parchment on Loghain's desk. He nodded and then turned to leave.

"And Howe" Loghain looked at him with tightened eyes, "I except you to deal with your own gossiping servants", Howe nodded compliant again and then left the study.

 _I don't have time for this, controlling the Theirin seed spreading like a disease_. Loghain called in two of his guards and asked them to find the servant Howe had described and bring her to the dungeon, at once. He would have to talk to her, and _deal_ with her. Loghain sighed as he looked out over his desk and then his study. Why hadn't the mages come up with some way of terminating unwanted pregnancies, without almost killing the woman who bore the child? They could do the most amazing things, healing the worst kind of wounds, but not remove an unwanted child. Of course, it had to do with the Chantry forbidding the practise of killing unborn children, but still, it was done in secret all over Ferelden and Thedas – but it was dangerous.

Loghain waited for some time before a guard returned and told him the said servant was being detained in the dungeons and Loghain rose to his feet and walked towards said place.

The girl before him was indeed elven, she sat down on a stool with her shaking hands in her lap, slightly covering what indeed seemed to be a small bump over her stomach. Her large green eyes were watering with tears and flinched in a scared nervousness. It was really quite sad, the whole ordeal, the poor girl could not deny the prince and as a result she had become with child and with that, become a threat to Anora's throne. If she had lied about it, and bearing a child claiming it to be Cailan's when it was not, she deserved what was coming. As Loghain walked in and sat down in front of her on a stool, she recoiled slightly. Loghain sighed as he sat down and leaned forward, resting his lower arms on his lap and clasped his hands. He looked at her, inspected the small woman before him. The elves were smaller than humans, more delicate and slimmer. Come to think of it, he'd never seen an obese elf, they were all skinny with more outdrawn features than humans, larger eyes, a more dominant bridge of their nose and generally smaller mouths. They all looked like human, slightly undeveloped teenagers physically, the women devoid of luscious curves or thick, fleshy thighs. The shaking elf tucked a strand of her tawny hair behind one of her large ears and looked up nervously at him.

"You are Tallys, I presume?" Loghain asked in a hoarse voice. He should have had another shot of whiskey before he went down to the dungeons, he thought to himself.

"Y-yes" the elf stuttered, "Me' Lord"

"And I assume you know why you have been brought down here?" He should just dispose of her right now, talking to her really served no point, nothing would change the girls fate in any case. Cailan would never be able to claim the child, even if it was indeed his.

"I-I think I might, y-yes"

"Well then, care to tell me why you have been brought here?" Loghain exhaled as he stood up. There must be something to drink down here, the torturers were hardly the sober kind, mostly due to their line of work and this day, this _day_ was beginning to stretch beyond Loghain's patience.

"I-I am with child" the elf hugged her stomach, "And it's the prince's"

"And you believe I am to just take your word for that?" Loghain hissed while he rooted around in a cupboard until he found a bottle of something unidentified but surely alcoholic. It was schnapps, it would have to do, Loghain thought and had a swig at the bottle. _Much better_ , he thought as he could feel the alcohol burn down his throat and quickly spread through is body.

"Pardon me, me' L-lord, but I've slept with none o-other"

"Of course you haven't" Loghain chuckled to himself without smiling. "Have you spread your legs for the prince during an extended period of time?"

"N-no, no, just a few times, three months past" she seemed to shiver unpleasantly and let out a sob.

"It couldn't be that bad, could it? Since you felt the information of the alleged father of your child was important enough to share" Loghain sat back down on the stool in front of her. "How many others of your kind has the prince lain with?"

"I-I don't know me' Lord" Her gaze trembled, as he looked straight into her eyes with his icy stare. "A few others, perhaps – I really do-don't know"

"A few others" Loghain chuckled to himself, _great, just great_. "Who?"

The elf eventually gave him a few names that he would have his guards keep an eye on, in case there were more unwanted royal bastards growing in their elven mother's wombs. He then rose from his stool and walked behind the elf and quietly unsheathed his dagger from his boot and quickly slit the knife through her throat. The girl gasped and gurgled on her blood while trying to draw a last breath and twitched for a few moments before she fell off the stool and her light hair was coloured red in the thick dark pool of her pouring blood. Loghain sighed as he wiped the blood of his dagger and then slid it back down into his boot, and then he had another swig of the schnapps before he left the dungeons and let the guards dispose of the limp leftovers.

* * *

Rhiannon had returned to the throne room when she watched as Loghain return, rubbing his temples and looking distraught. She decided to follow him as he quickly walked towards the other end of the room from whence he'd come. She had to quicken her feet under her long dress to catch up with his fast pace.

"Loghain", she shouted quietly to gain his attention. He looked back on her without stopping, but reached out his hand for her to take it. She noticed he had blood on the edges of his linen shirt that peaked out under knee-long coat, but she didn't say anything and grabbed his hand.

They walked through several halls and corridors in the large palace, before stepping out in a small hidden garden Rhiannon had never seen before. It had a few statues and was filled with blossoming flowers and trees, framing the small shrubbery. Loghain guided her to a bench and as she sat down, he sat down beside her and then lay down, with his head in her lap, facing her abdomen. He didn't smile or make any sort of attempt to say anything, he simply lay there and she stroked his hair and his temples while he breathed with his hands on his stomach. Had he for some reason panicked? She couldn't see panic in his eyes, nor any sort of hint to what he was feeling. At least he didn't seem to be angry at _her_. Cailan was probably right; they had been very discreet. Perhaps he was just stressed from the funeral earlier and whatever it was Howe had told him. Was the blood Howe's? _Had_ Howe found about Cailan and her, and told him – and he'd killed Howe in anger? No, of course not, Howe had returned to the throne room shortly after Loghain had gone to meet him in his study, she had met in while she strolled around looking for Cailan.

"What was it Howe wanted?" Rhiannon asked as she stroked Loghain's dark strands of hair.

"Please, Rhiannon, not now" Loghain sighed against her lower belly.

"Something obviously happened" Rhiannon retorted. Loghain groaned annoyingly and looked up at her from her lap.

"Yes, something _obviously_ happened" he hissed. "I had to deal with an alleged bastard child of Cailan's"

"Cailan's?" Rhiannon asked and raised her eyebrows, feeling something burn in her chest but at the same time relax inside her. "But, he just married Anora, isn't it a bit early for him to be unfaithful?" _Keep up the façade, Rhiannon_ , she thought to herself.

"He's been unfaithful since he learned how to copulate" Loghain hissed.

"But with who? Is it one of Anora's ladies in waiting? Or…No, it's not Delilah Howe, is it?" Rhiannon's eyes widened.

"That would have been a perfect mess, wouldn't it?" Loghain sighed and buried his face in his hands as he took a deep breath, "But no, it's not Delilah Howe. It's elven servants"

"Of course it is – in plural form", Rhiannon snorted in a faked despondent way, it was not news to her, after all. "Does Anora know?"

"That he prefers elves? Yes" Loghain exhaled.

"You haven't killed the prince, have you?" She nodded to the blood on his shirt.

"Sadly, no"

"I see" Rhiannon nodded and looked up and towards the castle. He had _disposed_ of the bastard child, and in the process also the elven servant carrying it. Cailan wouldn't care, he'd possibly be glad to know he wouldn't father a bastard and he despised Loghain, so he did not care of him knowing he slept with their servants. It was nothing uncommon, after all. The disposing had to be done; of course, Rhiannon had no illusions of the work Loghain preformed from time to time and specially this time – since it was to protect Anora's station as Queen consort. "Bloody awful business, that" Rhiannon tried to smile softly as she drew her fingers through his hair. Loghain didn't answer, only closed his eyes for a moment and his face seemed to relax. "You know, it's bad to keep this things hidden inside yourself, eventually it will poison you"

"I'm already beyond redemption" Loghain said softly with closed eyes.

"Yes, perhaps" she said and stroked his chin and jawline, "But know this, I will support you in everything you do. I do trust that you know what you're doing and why. There is no reason you should bury all your hard decisions and let them slowly kill you from the inside. I am to be your wife; you need to let me unburden you.

"I have no illusions as to what it is you do for our realm, what you have done to protect Maric and Ferelden – I will stand beside you and help you carry that burden. You don't have to obscure what you do, with me"

"I do not _obscure_ what I do to anyone. I simply chose not to talk about it" Loghain looked up at Rhiannon.

"As you wish, my dear, I'll stand with you no matter what" Rhiannon twisted her lips and Loghain rose up to kiss her. She dearly hoped she could unburden him somewhat, the blood he had on his hands, it covered him like a dark shadow, it always did – but it did not stop him from being a kind man, to her. He was taciturn, harsh, arrogant and hot-tempered, but he treated her with care and very much like an equal. She was _not_ a piece of flesh to be bargained over in his eyes, she was an equal to him and that made her insides warm when she thought about it. _Unfortunately_ , Cailan did the same.


	22. 19 Blood of my blood I

Chapter 19 part I – Blood of my blood

12th August, 9:26

Denerim

Rhiannon had stayed in Denerim for her birthday to be celebrated, the Cousland's had held a small gathering in their Denerim estate due to it, with mainly the closest family and friends. Loghain had attended with Anora and Cailan, who were now King and Queen, Estri and Bann Renhold had been there as well with their one-year-old daughter, named Ingruid – _Landra Rhiannon Ingruid Estri Renhold_. She was absolutely adorable and Eleanor had assured Rhiannon that Bann Renhold once was a handsome man, so even though the girl inherited his features, she would be a beautiful girl. She was now, at least, with her puffy round cheeks and strawberry curls. She had huge green-brown eyes and a cheeky little snotty nose and she climbed _everywhere_ eager to discover everything about this new exciting estate that she'd found herself in. Rhiannon had been to visit Estri several times since Ingruid was born and had become close to the child, but Estri and Ingruid had never visited the Cousland estate. Ingruid had reached her arms out to Rhiannon as she toddled her way to her in a mix of actual walking and crawling and she had smiled cheery, showing of a few odd little teeth peaking out between her pink lips. She always wanted to sit in Rhiannon's lap when she visited, and point out different things in the rooms they were in. She had recently formed a distinct habit of shouting "No!" in a very decisive tone and grabbing the nearest thing possible, tossing it to the floor, for no apparent reason. A strong-willed child, indeed.

Rhiannon had then returned to Highever with her family to start packing her things, dividing them up depending on whether they were to be shipped to Denerim or Gwaren. For Denerim, she only really needed what she usually brought and what was already at the Cousland Estate, except a warm cape and some dresses more suitable for the arriving autumn. She decided to send her winter garments to Gwaren, since Loghain and herself would travel to Gwaren two weeks after their wedding.

It was with a bittersweet feeling she left for Denerim a week into August, she looked as the Highland mountains towered over her childhood home as she rode away. She had insisted on riding to Denerim, instead of going by carriage – she very much enjoyed riding and the weather was warm and pleasant. Now she was leaving her heritage of being a Highlander and was soon to become a Lowlander, making her home in the forests of Gwaren, in the castle that sat just by the southern shores of the vast Amaranthine Ocean. They had no cliffs or mountains in Gwaren, instead they had the most enchanting and thick woods, made up by a mix of beech, pine and fir trees. Their beaches were flat and filled with small and large stones shooting out from the busy ocean, while the water drenched the castle walls standing high and close to the ocean.

She could hear the pipes playing the Fereldan Highland Oath in her mind as she left the Castle of Highever behind. The sound of bagpipes was a sound she had always connected with Highever and the Highlands, even though she knew it was a tradition the whole of Ferelden shared, but the majestic tunes of the Highland together with heavy drums was so powerful in comparison to the softer drumming of the Lowlands. The Highlands on the boarder to Orlais had always been more war-torn due to its location and the battle music had been a keen tradition in the region. Of course the military in the southern parts of Ferelden had equally good traditions when it came to marches and battle hymns, but they weren't as heavy and fierce as the northern.

She would miss Highever, but of course she would return, that much she knew. Andraste had told her she would return, since _the darkness would come to fear her_.

* * *

Eleanor had been running about the entire estate the whole morning trying to remember everything that had to be remembered. Today was the _one_ day nothing was allowed to go wrong, Eleanor wouldn't even let it begin to go wrong, it was her daughters wedding day, the day her daughter became the second Teyrna in Ferelden. There was only two Teyrnirs left and Eleanor was happy beyond words that her daughter would unite the two Teyrnirs by marrying a man she seemed to be in love with. Bryce had during the past two years gotten used to the thought about his daughter marrying Loghain, but he refused to be happy about it. He was happy about her becoming something that would suit her perfectly, a Teyrna, but he was not happy about who she'd have to marry to become one.

To Bryce, it was bad enough when it was merely a political arrangement, but as he'd learnt his daughter had fallen in love with Loghain Mac Tir, only fourteen years old, he hadn't been able to shake it off. Of course, Eleanor hadn't told him about what she had witnessed during the years, the kisses and the forbidden touches – there was no need to further upset her husband – but he had witnessed Loghain's hands on his daughters hips and back several times. He could, however, not do anything about it, since they _were_ betrothed and he had given them his blessing, in agreeing to the whole thing. He just couldn't keep himself from harbouring a slight bitterness towards the fact that Rhiannon could have been _Queen_. She had grown fond of Cailan since Maric's disappearance and they seemed to spend much time together, both with and without Anora.

Eleanor had servants bring Rhiannon's dress up to her room; it was a lavish gown of antivan inspiration, but in a fereldan fashion. The long underdress had far-stretching delicate sleeves in a royal blue with golden patterns, and then there was a sleeveless coat covering her torso and hips reaching down to her feet in white and gold woven thick linen. With that she would wear and heirloom from Eleanor's family, and old diadem with pearls and golden strings that showered down from her head and hair, framing her face. Rhiannon had asked for it to be as simple as possible, as she wasn't fond of the lavish style of higher noble and royal weddings. It was, of course, hard to make it simple, a Teyrns wedding was _never_ simple. She knew Loghain had cheated the last time he married, but then he was not as well known among the nobles and had just recently become the Hero of River Dane. This time, however, he married a woman of royal blood and could not cheat his way out of a grand ceremony, and neither could Rhiannon.

Eleanor found Rhiannon in her room, being groomed by two servants and her lady-in-waiting, Castiel, who were to move with Rhiannon to Gwaren. She had been given an intricate hairstyle with braids running around her head in several thin and thick braids and two long braids hanging down each side of her shoulders. She looked absolutely lovely. Her eyes were being carefully coaled and her face softly powdered. In Ferelden, women did not paint their faces as much as they did in Orlais or in Antiva. In Orlais, they even wore masks over their faces to hide their features, which seemed an utterly ridiculous tradition. Eleanor watched as Rhiannon winced at the servants pulling her hair and trying not to point the sharp coal in her eyes.

"Thank the Maker you don't marry someone every week, this is excruciating" Rhiannon hissed towards Eleanor who stood smiling and watched her precious daughter being pampered, rather unwillingly it seemed.

"Well, let's hope you don't turn into once of those women who are widowed every fifth year, shall we?" Oriana came into Rhiannon's room and sat down on the bed drinking a glass of cold cider.

"Didn't you bring me any cider?" Rhiannon whined to Oriana, looking intentionally sad and pouted with her bottom lip.

"Ah, no, but you can have some of mine, mi encantadora", Oriana gave Rhiannon the mug of cider as something metallic rustled nearby and childish laughter could be heard, "Oren!" Oriana shouted aggressively, "What are you doing you silly boy? Where is your father and why are you crawling on the dirty floor?" Oriana picked the boy up. Oren was nearly one year old and crawled _everywhere_ , now probably having crawled away from his somewhat absentminded father sitting in his study in his and Oriana's chambers. "Fergus!" She shouted walking towards their chambers, "Fergus! Your son has escaped!" Both Eleanor and Rhiannon sniggered as they looked at each other.

It was soon time to get Rhiannon dressed; she had already been bathed and scrubbed with spicy oils with tones of dark citrus. Her bosom was lightly bound to hold her womanly charms in place and the lavish underdress was pulled down over her shoulders and then pulled tight around her waist. Then she was clad in the sleeveless coat that sat tightly around her waist and it was closed with a broad golden belt that clenched her waist, and a matching thin metal belt was hung over her hips with Haelia's ceremonial dagger hanging from it. A pearl-decorated golden breastplate was fastened over her décolletage and a brooch of the house Cousland fastened on the right side of her chest. Now it was only the diadem left to be fastened in her hair and then she was ready to be taken to the Chantry.

 _Maker, she was beautiful_.

As Eleanor escorted her downstairs, she couldn't help but to think her daughter so grown up. She was to be married today and begin a new life and start a new family of her own, it was indeed bittersweet, knowing that Rhiannon would not be in her bedroom sleeping the coming night. For the first time in her life, this was no longer her home, with them. Of course it was her _home_ , it would always be hers if she were to need it, but she would have a new home this afternoon. Thank the Maker the Gwaren Estate was so close to their own in Denerim – since Highever and Gwaren were on each side across the whole country.

Bryce greeted his daughter lovingly, kissing her cheek and putting his hands on her shoulders.

"You are surely a sight for sore eyes, my dear" Bryce said and looked at his daughter with soft, shaken eyes. He was definitely also taken by the bittersweet taste of the moment that lay ahead. She would be close in the coming two weeks, before they headed for Gwaren, but then it would be quite some time before Eleanor and Bryce were to see their daughter. They would leave right after the Landsmeet that took place the last days of august this year and Rhiannon would be installed as the new Teyrna of Gwaren.

* * *

"I pledge my love to you and everything that I own. I promise you the first bite of my meat and the first sip from my cup. I pledge that your name will always be the name I cry aloud in the dead of night. I promise to honour you above all others. Our love is never-ending and we will remain, forevermore, equals in our marriage. This is my wedding vow to you, Margaret Rhiannon Haelia Eleanor Cousland"

"I pledge by the life that courses within my blood and the love that resides within my heart to take you to my hand, my heart and my spirit to be my chosen one, to desire and be desired by you. I pledge to possess you and be possessed by you, without sin or shame. Our love is never-ending and we will remain, forevermore, equals in our marriage. This is my wedding vow to you, Loghain Mac Tir"

The Revered Mother of the overly decorated Chantry nodded to Bryce, who stepped up the stairs to the altar, where Rhiannon and Loghain stood. Bryce sheathed his dirk and cut his daughters wrist and then Loghain's wrist and with a nod joined their wrists together. The Mother then wrapped a silk lace around their hands several turns and then bound the lace in a strong knot.

"You are blood of my blood, bone of my bone. I give you my body, that we two may be one. I give you my spirit, until our life shall be done", Loghain recited while looking deep into Rhiannon's eyes. He didn't smile, didn't shake or move a muscle except his lips, it was possible he didn't even blink as he looked into her eyes.

"You are blood of my blood, bone of my bone. I give you my body, that we two may be one. I give you my spirit, until our life shall be done", Rhiannon answered, looking up at the man who was now her husband. They now shared blood, they were finally _kin_.

"I pledge to you my living and my dying, each equally in your care. My body shall be a shield for you for as long as the Maker allows me to be by your side", Loghain said.

"I accept your pledge", Rhiannon answered with a small smile and she could see Loghain's eyes smile.

"Now you are bound by blood, one to the other, a tie not easy to break", the Revered Mother said looking first at Loghain and then at Rhiannon. "May the Maker be with you and bless you. May you see your children's children. May you be poor in misfortune and rich in blessings. May you know nothing but happiness, from this day forward", the Revered Mother blessed with her hands over their tied together hands and then she nodded for them to turn to the gathered congregation and walk out of the Chantry, now as husband and wife, _as kin_.

As they walked, with their hand and wrists still tied together, Rhiannon saw her parents, her father tried to look stoic but failed miserably and Eleanor smiled widely holding one of Bryce's hands in both of her own. Fergus and Oriana stood beside them, Oriana holding little Oren who plucked at her hair, trying to taste it and chew on it. Oriana tried to remove his hand, but as soon as she had done that, his hand quickly found its way back into her hair, and her hair into his mouth.

She saw Anora and Cailan, Anora smiled happily whilst Cailan looked as neutral as he could. He never was a man to successfully hide his emotions, but he seemed to really try today. But there was some form of misery in his eyes and Rhiannon tried to not look too much at him. A man she thought were the Seneschal of Gwaren stood close to Arl Howe and his family, Bann Esmerelle and her son stood next to the Howe's. Then she saw Bann Loren and his wife and son, Estri stood with her husband and daughter and Bann Teagan was there as well, with his sister-in-law, Isolde. The Chantry was filled to the brim with nobles and people from Denerim, Highever and Gwaren – it felt strange having all these people staring at her, but she had to get used to it now, as she was now married to the Teyrn of Gwaren. Rhiannon clasped her hand around Loghain's in the tied lace and looked up at him and smiled and he answered her with one of his very few winks. He was utterly gorgeous in his light coat, with his long raven hair falling down over his back. He wore a metal band over his forehead, symbolizing the status as a Teyrn and it made him look heroic. He _was_ heroic. She had spent her whole life as a child hearing tales of him and Maric and what they did during the Rebellion, all their adventures and misfortunes, their victories and the heroism that led to the freeing our their beloved Ferelden – _her beloved Ferelden_. She was married to the man who had freed her country from tyrannical orlesian oppression; he was Fereldens greatest strategist and general. He was, infamous all over Thedas for being a tyrant. In Ferelden he was famed and adored as a hero, one of the greatest heroes the land had even seen. He was indeed, a walking legend, and he held _her_ hand. At the same time, she was the mistress of the King of Ferelden, King Maric's son. She had the two most powerful men in Ferelden sharing her bed. The darkness Andraste spoke of had every right to fear her. Her blood was no longer only that of Calenhad, shared with King Maric and King Cailan, but also blood of Ferelden's greatest general and military strategist since the beginning of andrastian time.

As they stepped out of the Chantry the drums started beating in a welcome march, typical when soldiers and people in the military got married, but there were also royal bagpipes. Denerim welcomed them, as husband and wife. Loghain raised his hand in a commanders greeting and Rhiannon waved to the people who had gathered, she did feel slightly awkward and she could feel Loghain had the same feeling.

"Let's go home, shall we?" He smirked to her and squeezed her still bound up hand in his as they took the steps down from the Chantry and walked the small route to the Gwaren Estate. Well-wishers and blessings greeted them on the way, giving Rhiannon flowers as they walked past them. Finally the sound of the drums and pipes dulled slightly and they entered into their marital home. In mere minutes, the guests from the Chantry would arrive and the feast would begin, but Rhiannon hungrily stole a deep kiss from her husband as they had just stepped over the threshold.

* * *

"And so, my friends, Lords and Ladies, it has been bestowed upon me, to present you with our new Teyrna of Gwaren" the Seneschal of Gwaren, ser Noel of Rochester stood up from his place at the long table in the great hall of the Gwaren Estate. He looked first at Loghain who nodded and then focused his eyes on Rhiannon, they both sat next to each other at the end of the large table and Loghain turned to her, leaning slightly to the side with his elbow and lower arm resting at the table. "Teyrna Rhiannon Haelia Cousland Mac Tir of Gwaren", everyone except Loghain and herself, stood up and nodded to her. Anora gave Rhiannon one of her sincere smiles and Loghain smirked and laid a hand over her shoulder.

"To the lovely Teyrna of Gwaren, my wife" Loghain held up his goblet of wine and looked at Rhiannon. They all toasted to her and Rhiannon lifted her goblet as well and smiled as she nodded to their guests. Eleanor had become completely sentimental and Rhiannon could she her mother wiping under her eyes while smiling and nodding towards her. Anora returned to her chair and smiled widely beside Cailan who were already leaned back and relaxed in his chair, eyes pinned on Rhiannon. She loved to watch Cailan, he had that young arrogant way only a high noble had – it made her feel safe in a way Loghain never could, because Cailan reminded her of herself and _home._ They had royal blood, the both of them – and they were, after all, family. Since her marriage to Loghain, they were now both cousins and in-laws. Cailan did, however, look _just like Maric_ , down to the core and he acted very much like Maric as well, perhaps somewhat more spoiled, but Loghain had told her that Maric was about as insufferable as Cailan when he had first met him during the Rebellion. But Rhiannon enjoyed Cailan's _insufferable_ ways, not that she could tell Loghain that, but it was part of what made him irresistible.

Rhiannon sipped her wine and watched as the feasting continued. _Rhiannon Haelia Cousland Mac Tir_ , it had a nice ring to it and she felt comfortable sitting beside Loghain, his hand stroking her thigh during the dinner, tickling her inner thigh through her dress in a way that made her private parts burn with longing for him. When she looked up on him and met his gaze, that light blue, almost crystallizing and white, with the stark contrast of his dark hair and pale skin, it was as if she saw him for the first time. He was so controlled, he held himself under a whip – but she knew and had seen, that his temper betrayed him. He was seen as an emotionless, violent man who ruled behind Maric with an iron-fist, but he wasn't – at all. He was a man excruciatingly aware of his feelings, doing everything he could to hold them back because he was filled with guilt. She could read it from his eyes every time she saw him, that's what really made her fall in love with him. His tenderness, disguised in harshness, his gentle words disguised in a dry voice. He had lived through a life of antipoles, constantly in clash with each other. With every victory he had won, came a downfall with the guilt of lost lives, lost love and tired out friendships. He had loved Maric immensely, in what way Rhiannon did not know; perhaps it was just a very deep friendship that reached beyond most friendships. Or, it had been an amorous love. It really did not matter now, because no matter how much Loghain had loved Maric, how much she herself had loved Maric – he was _gone_. He was not here to witness their union and it was he who had brought them together. It was Maric, who had led her – or, more or less forced them both – into each other's arms, and Rhiannon couldn't be thankful enough.

 _She loved Loghain, as well as she loved Maric and Cailan_. The difference lay in the fact that she loved Loghain in an amorous way; she was _in love_ with him, as she was with Cailan. Maric had her profane love from a cherished friendship, but Loghain's mourning and her knowledge of his strong feelings and temperament made her suspect his feelings nestled deeper inside him. Perhaps deeper than he had wanted to admit to himself, even. She didn't know if he loved her yet, but he cherished her deeply, that much was obvious. Feelings and human emotions were complicated and what kind of love there had been between Loghain and Maric did not interest her, since she knew her own feelings were complicated enough between Cailan and Loghain. _Bothersome business, that_.


	23. 19 Blood of my blood II

Chapter 19 part II – Blood of my blood

12th August, 9:26

Denerim

 _To a city fair rode I, there armed lines of marching men in squadrons, passed me by. No pipe did hum, no battle drum did sound its loud tattoo. But Andraste's Bells o'er the Chantry swells rang out in the foggy dew. Right proudly high in Gwaren town, hung they out a flag of war. 'Twas better to die 'neath that Fereldan sky, than in Val Royeaux._

 _And my heart with grief was sore, for I parted then with valiant men, whom I never shall see n'more. But to and fro in my dreams I go and I kneel and pray for you, for slavery fled and the glorious dead – When you fell in the foggy dew._

The bards sang songs from and of the Rebellion, as they so often did. Of the freedom fighters and Maric the Saviour. Tyrants had oppressed Ferelden for decades and the wedding of the commander of the Rebellion secured Loghain an evening of being reminded of the rebellion of his youth. Remind him of that which made him who he is and turned him into a calculating strategist.

He had started as a _boy_ , who was good with his bow – that was modest, he thought to himself, he was fierce with a bow even as a small lad. When he and his father had fled their farm after the orlesians raped not only their lands, but violated his mother in front of his and his father's own eyes, he had to become a man, and fast. He went from being a small lad, to a grown man in mere weeks. They lived as bandits, poaching and steeling what they could to survive and Loghain became _very_ proficient with his bow. He was forced to become that good, or else he wouldn't have sat here at this wedding table today, waiting to engage his now second fierce wife, in the pleasures of their marital bed.

Loghain was formed by the Rebellion, his father had fought in the Rebellion and died for his country, as was Loghain prepared to do. He was still prepared to die for Ferelden, 20 years of desk work hadn't made him any less of a warrior, which he still was at heart. He was neither a politician nor a simple bureaucrat – he was born to spend his life on the battlefields, planning strategies and slaughtering everything in his way, mainly those makerdamned _orlesians_. He had been born of a proud fereldan rebel and he continued his father's legacy, as a proud fereldan rebel at heart, ready to cut down anything that threatened the freedom of his lands. He felt a strong sense of pride as he watched his wife beside him, _Rhiannon Haelia_ , she traced her bloodline back to Calenhad and Haelia Cousland and she was _exactly_ as fierce as would be expected. She was, after all born of a woman from the raiders of the Storm Coast who had sieged and taken down her first orlesian warship when she was one year younger than Rhiannon is now.

He had slacked off with Rhiannon's weapon training since he came back from searching for Maric, too depressed to even try, but he needed to drill her harder as soon as they got back to Gwaren, he thought as he watched her sip her wine. She needed to be a Teyrna ready to lead her soldiers into war, if there ever was a need. He still needed to spend quite a lot of time in Denerim, helping Anora ease into her role as Queen consort and further her control over Cailan. Anora did look quite happy with Cailan, except he noticed Cailan's eyes often fell on Loghain's wife and not on his own wife. _Little bastard_ , Loghain thought to himself as he watched Cailan. Anora looked untouched by Cailan's glaring eyes on Rhiannon, it seems the strains on their marriage didn't affect her that much after all, or at least not publicly. Anora was her father's daughter, unfortunately – and fortunately.

 _And from the plains near River Dane, strong men came hurrying through. While Orlesian brutes with their long range bows sailed in through the foggy dew. Their bravest fell and the requiem bell rang mournfully and clear, for those who died that Wintersendtide in the springing of the year. While the Maker did gaze with deep amaze, at those fearless men but few, who bore the fight that freedom's light might shine through the foggy dew._

The bards kept singing and playing, beating their drums in such familiar way, it took Loghain back to the angst and fear of the battlefield. How he fought to protect his men, to protect Maric and Rowan. How he exhausted himself, time and time again, but somehow found even more strength from seemingly nothing and rose again to rid Ferelden of their oppressors. He never could give up, even though he crawled through mud, bleeding through his armour and roaring out in pain and for his life. He'd have to crawl over his soldier's dead bodies countless of times during the Rebellion, pushing their dead bodies deeper into the dirt to save himself from the raining arrows. Somehow, he had survived, he still didn't understand how. He had so many marks across his body from all those arrows, all those orlesian swords and knives, from the splitter of their ballistae. He could still remember the taste the metallic in his mouth from his blood pushing up from his throat, mixing with the taste of mud and salty sweat. Still feel the light-headedness of blood loss, the deep pain from hard and sharp metal piercing his body. He could still hear the chaos in the middle of the muddy battlefield, the screeching of pain, the miserable calls for help and the utter fear of death rising like a thick mist over the plains.

Suddenly he found himself back in his warm estate, with Rhiannon's hand on his upper arm, asking for his attention. He had drifted away for a little while, from the sound of the marching drums, into a part of him that never seemed to end it's plaguing of him.

"They want us to dance", Rhiannon looked at him with a teasing smirk, knowing very well he did _not_ dance. He drew in a deep breath and straightened out his back in the chair.

"Do you want to?" He asked Rhiannon as he stroked her cheek and leaned in towards her and softly touched her lips with his own.

"I'm not that much of a dancer, you know this" She smiled over his lips as she answered his kisses.

"If I hold you at the waist, and you lean against me, perhaps we can fool them?" Loghain smirked.

"Perhaps" She stroked his throat and kissed him longer and deeper.

"Lay it off you two" Cailan threw a piece of bread their way and earned himself a harsh stare from Anora, but he merely shrugged obliviously and swirled his goblet of wine in a nonchalant manner. "We've waited for you to dance for hours now, soon I'll have to force you to it by my _kingly might_ ", this earned Cailan a stare just as harsh and perhaps even more cold than Anora's, from Loghain.

"Don't forget, you're now my _son-in-law_ , my _King_ " Rhiannon smiled crookedly towards Cailan who snorted confidently as he rose from his chair.

"There is to be dancing after all!" Cailan proclaimed and clasped his hands, "As soon as Loghain is done dancing with his bride, I'm claiming a dance with the lovely Teyrna of Gwaren", Loghain said nothing in response to that but simply nodded and stood up from his chair, reaching a hand out for Rhiannon to take it. _I'll need to keep an eye on the little bastard_ , Loghain thought as they walked away from the table.

They moved towards the large fireplace in the great hall of the Gwaren Estate and as the bards started to play a softer old fereldan wedding ballad of lost and regained love, of dreams of a bonnie life on the fields of the motherland, free from slavery and oppression, Loghain placed his hands on Rhiannon's upper waist. She rested her hands on his chest and leaned towards him, smiling.

"Your sword is grinding against my stomach" Rhiannon whispered and smiled up to Loghain.

"What?" He was startled, he wasn't…Excited. But then she nodded down to his long-sword that hung from one of the belts around his hip and he realized she meant his _actual_ sword. "Wench" he hissed amusingly through his teeth.

"You should have seen your face, my love" Rhiannon sniggers as she stroked his chest, while moving slowly, circling over the stones on the floor, holding his eyes with her glistening large blue. Loghain curved his lips in a small smile and reached down to kiss her forehead. It was still draped in her wedding diadem that had long links of gold running over her braided hair and down the side of her face.

"You'll pay for that later", he whispered.

"Perhaps", she smirked teasingly, "I'm just a poor little girl and you're such a…large man"

"Rhiannon, stop it" Loghain hissed in her ear.

"Stop what, exactly? I'm only pointing out the obvious", she whispered with a large mischievous smile on her lips as he carefully spun her around her own shoulder as the pace of the music increased.

"Impudent" he whispered as she came back into his embrace. She smiled and he couldn't help but to smile back at her. She was truly a blessing, so fair and beautiful and all too good for him. She had accepted him knowing just who and what he was, she hadn't even hesitated, no matter what he had told her. She knew about the elven servant, and that he murdered her – that he slit the throat of a pregnant woman, and she hadn't scolded him for it, because she understood the political implications. She _understood_. She had been raised to be a leader, raised to be able to make hard decisions and to live with the guilt of them. How can you raise someone to become all that? How can someone raised to handle such things, still be so soft, delicate and close to her emotions, but at the same time so fierce and strong-minded? He had tried to raise Anora into something similar, but she was too much like himself, she was hard on the outside and hardly allowed herself to _feel_.

Cailan had also been raised to be the same, but he was neither, really. Perhaps delicate, Loghain thought and spun Rhiannon around again and her dress spun with her in a small and careful pirouette. _Maker, she was beautiful_.

As the pace of the music increased even more and went over to a more cheery note, Cailan, _the little shit_ , came and took over the dance with Rhiannon and they spun around the floor and smiled happily as then both had done as children. Neither Loghain nor Anora was much for the fast swirls of traditional fereldan dancing and he could see the same relieve in Anora's eyes as he felt in his own, even though he was hesitant to leave Rhiannon in the arms of the cheating bastard. He had been eyeing Rhiannon the entire night, and it was shameless. However, Rhiannon seemed to enjoy dancing with Cailan, Maric had dragged her out to the dance floor when she was a small girl during the Salons in the palace and spun her around in swirls and she had shrieked in joy at the pure force from Maric's arms as they both circled fast round and around. Then just before it looked as if they were both about to spew, Maric would lift her up cheeringly laughing with her. It was probably something similar she felt while swirling with Cailan, Loghain thought to himself, he did look so much like his father – and it was as if he had inherited only Maric's insufferable cheery personality. Cailan was a joy during events like this; laughing loud and chatting endlessly. But there was something about his eyes this evening, and Loghain couldn't put his finger on it. He was just as obnoxious and chatty as usual whenever there was wine and music, but it was as if he was still mourning.

* * *

As the evening drew late and the moon stood on top of the sky and the nobles had become drunken, well fed and had danced until they started to ask the servants for buckets for emptying their bowels, Loghain and Rhiannon thanked the guests and snuck up to what was now their joint bedroom. Rhiannon had become a little intoxicated, Loghain had noticed, as she stumbled on a few steps in the stairs and when they entered the bedroom, she bounced down onto the bed. She sat there looking at him with her large blue eyes, as he sat down in an armchair just across her, he couldn't help but to exhale a deeply held breath as he spread his legs before him and leaned back into the chair with his hands on the armrests.

"Are they not leaving?" Rhiannon asked, listening to the noise coming from downstairs.

"I thought you'd been to wedding feasts before" Loghain smirked.

"Of course I have, but I've always left with my parents before-" she interrupted herself, "Oh" she sniggered, "Oh, I see". Loghain nodded as he eyed her as she sat on the bed with her hands clasped in the bedding and leaning forward a little, eyeing him back. "Well, we best get on with it then, wouldn't you say?"

Loghain nodded but didn't move from his chair, her now slightly confused eyes still held his gaze as he leaned his head against one of his hands, pushing his groin forwards.

"Get undressed, then" Loghain said with a smirk on his face.

"I am sorry to say, you may have to help me" Rhiannon looked a bit perplexed. Her dress was indeed a little tricky to get out of, all on her own.

"No"

"No?" She asked as she stood up, "What's your game?"

"Game?"

"Yes, what are you playing at, Teyrn Mac Tir?"

"The dress, _now_ ", He almost growled at her, and for a moment she flinched slightly, but then she got a mischievous smirk on her face.

It took her a fair bit of time, in her state, to remove all parts of her intricate wedding dress, but eventually she sat naked before him on the bed, watching him with a challenging look on her face.

"Well?" She asked. Loghain didn't answer but simply looked at her, she was so beautiful in all her innocence and he couldn't wait until he got to enter her, but he wanted to savour this moment for as long as he could. That was his wife, sitting there on the edge of the bed looking mischievous. _Gorgeous woman_.

His blood pumped inside his body, ached in his groin and he wanted nothing more than to ravish her completely. But he was going to enjoy this, _really_ savour it and also trying to make her enjoy it. They had lain with each other for almost two years, when there had been an opportunity, but she had never been able to _release_ fully with him and that's what he wanted to give her. He walked to her as she sat, undressed completely for him and he pulled her up and kissed her, deeply. The touch of her tongue against his as their mouths pressed deep onto each other made him let out a soft grunt and she had already started to tremble in front of him. He stroked her back and down to her round hips and bottom, squeezing the soft fat of her cheeks and pushed her towards his thudding hardness.

He lifted her up by her hips and lay her down on the bed before him and stroked her whole body as she stretched out before him. He kissed her thighs and stroked her inner thighs softly with a few fingers to tickle her lightly. She sniggered and winced a little when he closed in one her warm gash and he softly stroked it, feeling the warmth of her and soon buried himself in her, tasting her and stroking her hips as she shivered before him.

"What _are_ you doing?" She asked him as her breath had started to become rugged and heavy.

"Just lay yourself down, woman" Loghain answered and gave her a harsh stare.

"I didn't even know you could do tha-"

"Shut up, Rhiannon"

It took some time for him to first and foremost get her to relax enough to just enjoy herself, but as he could feel his jaw starting to tire, she started to shake and moan more deeply. He hadn't done this in years, he'd never given himself to Rhiannon in this way, and he seldom did it with Celia. There was something very forbidden about using ones mouth to pleasure someone you love, as a man, but he could never understand why it felt forbidden – he only knew it made him want to penetrate her even more. It aroused him to the point of almost realising himself before he had even gotten his trousers off. But he restrained himself and worked through the slight cramps in his jaw and eventually she winced hard and grabbed his hair and let out a strained moan. He could feel her body tightening and pulsating as she clawed at his scalp. He then rose and dried off his mouth with the back of his hand and started to unbutton his trousers.

"What did you _do_?" Rhiannon's eyes were wide, but filled with desire, she seemed mesmerised as she got up and leaned back on her elbows.

"Made sure you enjoyed yourself" Loghain smirked as he pulled his boots off and undressed completely.

"I did, very much", she smiled.

"Good"

Loghain climbed into the bed and on top of her as he kissed her stomach and her heavy breasts, they had grown a little during the years, but not so very much. She was very well developed even at an age he really shouldn't have slept with her – but he was obviously a weak excuse of a man, at least when it came to _her_. As he reached her face they embraced and kissed, hurriedly and intensively and he drew her over him as he turned to lie on his back and she soon realized what to do. He gasped for air as she slowly let her body sink down over him and she let out a trembling moan. The feeling of her warmth almost drove him over the edge before he had even been able to push deep inside her, but he managed to hold himself back and clasped his hand over her hips, helping her grind against him as he moved up inside her. She leaned down over him and reached around his neck as they kissed passionately.

"I love you, Mac Tir", Rhiannon said in a hoarse voice filled with desire and arousal.

"And I you", Loghain answered as he increased his pushes into her. It made her moan even more intensely as he pushed her hips down against him and jerked his own hips against her. Soon she shook and trembled deeply again and her body clutched around him as she tensed up, breathing heavy against his lips and letting out loud strained noises. Then he couldn't hold himself back any longer, he swung her back onto her back and pushed himself violently inside her while holding her pinned down to the bed. She looked up at him with dim half-shut eyes and he snarled as his release came over him.

* * *

They lay naked in their bed, sipping on wine and listening to the ruckus still going on downstairs, it still sounded like there were some guests left while the poor servants tried their best to clean up. Hopefully not too many of them had become too drunk and made the work even harder for the servants, Rhiannon thought as she curled up against her husband.

"The undressing thing, what was that about?" Rhiannon asked and looked at Loghain who half-sat in the bed leaned against the backrest, gently and slightly absentminded swirling the wine in his mug.

"Punishment" Loghain got a smug look on his face.

"Punishment? Whatever for?" Rhiannon shifted her position and sat up looking at Loghain.

"I told you, when we danced"

"Oh no, you were serious about that, you pig!" Rhiannon nudged him and gave him a pretend angry look.

"Naturally" Loghain nodded and smirked.

"You're like a large child!" Rhiannon snorted.

"You made me blush in front of the King" Loghain teased her.

"Now that's a lie, I know for a fact that the _great_ Loghain Mac Tir cannot blush!"

"Perhaps not, but he can punish impudent girls" Loghain smiled crookedly, "Specially those who belongs to him"

"You're such a pig" Rhiannon nudged him in the side and he flinched slightly. "No, no, why haven't I ever noticed that?" She laughed, "You're ticklish!"

"Absolutely not" Loghain exclaimed with a snort, while pushing her away slightly. Rhiannon couldn't help but to bite her lower lip and glance teasingly at the great warrior before her.

"The Hero of River Dane, ticklish!" She laughed, "Oh Maker, I can't believe it, this is the best wedding gift I could ever receive"

"Rhiannon, don't" Loghain glared at her with an icy stare.

"Oh don't worry, my love" She sniggered as she looked at him mischievously and then quickly poked his side, which resulted in Loghain flinching so violently that he spilled some of his wine.

"Rhiannon! Maker damn it!" He snarled aggressively at her and put his mug of wine on the beside-table. Rhiannon quickly drank the last of her wine and put it on the small table on her side of the bed as she stood on her arms and knees, watching the angered Teyrn standing up trying to dry of the dripping red liquid.

"Sorry", she said in a sad little voice, obviously teasing him, as she backed into a corner of the bed.

"You will be", Loghain hissed, but she could see a smile in his eyes.


	24. 20 The Declaration

Chapter 20 – The Declaration

30th August, 9:26

Denerim

Rhiannon woke up to an empty bed, she was not a morning person and Loghain simply wasn't a _bed_ person, more of a restless sort who went to bed after midnight and woke up before the sun had even begun to rise. He had a natural rhythm within him that seemed to be a trace left from when he grew up on the farm and then later as he spent so many years in rebel camps. He fell asleep fast and seemed to sleep deeply for the first few hours and then towards the morning hours he slept light, easily waking up. He had scolded her one night for snoring early in the morning, waking him up, but it was hardly her fault that she slept deeply during the morning hours, when he didn't. She didn't wake him up just after midnight when he lay beside her sounding like he was sawing down an entire wood, driving her absolutely insane.

Castiel peeked in through the bedroom door adjoining Loghain's study and asked if Rhiannon were ready for her morning-tea and where she wanted to have it.

"The downstairs study will be fine, thank you Castiel" Rhiannon yawned and stretched her body out in the bed, waggling her toes and pushing herself deeply down into the bed. She didn't like eating in bed, but she never turned down a mug of milky sweet tea in bed in the morning. Why hadn't she asked Castiel for that? _Sod it_.

Rhiannon toppled out of bed and looked out the window, the market was already fully awake and people were going about their usual undertakings. She put her feet into her wool slippers and wrapped her morning coat over her sleeping-shift; she could never stand bathing before she had broken her fast, or at least been awake for an hour. The estate was beginning to feel chilly, it was almost Kingsway and the autumn was well underway. They were leaving for Gwaren in two days and as excited as she was for seeing the large castle, her new home, she did not long for the draughty cold stonewalls that were synonymous with castles.

She tipped down the stairs and quickly peeked in to the library, but it was empty and so was the study. She sat herself down in the sofa close to the burning fireplace in the study and reached for a book she had started to read during the mornings. It was a Denerim Scholar who explored the remnants of old Avvar settlements all over Ferelden and Rhiannon was very fascinated by their pagan gods. Castiel put down a mug of milky sweet tea on the table beside the sofa and Rhiannon smiled in appreciation.

"Do you wish for anything else, my Lady?" Castiel asked kindly.

"No, I reckon I'm good for the moment" Rhiannon answered.

"You don't want something to eat?"

"No, no, I don't think I do. I feel slightly nauseous, actually" The thought of food had immediately turned Rhiannon's stomach and she felt a heavy nausea suddenly come over her, "The tea will do, thank you Castiel"

Rhiannon had to stop reading and focus on her breathing for a moment, trying to press the nausea back. Was she becoming ill with something? Hopefully not, this afternoon the Landsmeet were to be summoned and during it, she would be declared Teyrna. It was a formal declaration as she was already the Teyrna by marriage, but it had to be declared by the King and authorized by the Landsmeet so she could take a ruling place by the King's side in case of Loghain's absence.

While she sat in the sofa trying to calm her up-roaring body by breathing easy, she heard the door open and Arlethan, Loghain's footman greeted what sounded like her husband.

"Good morning" Loghain nodded as he walked pass the study and stopped to look at her, sitting on the sofa. She tried to gather up a smile for her husband, when her father walked in.

"Good morning, Loghain, father" Rhiannon carefully nodded, as to not upset her body more.

"You look a little…Pale, pup. Are you all right? Has she been like this for long? You didn't mention anything this morning" Bryce looked with a discredited glare at Loghain.

"No", Loghain said dryly.

"It is nothing, I just fell nauseous from out of nowhere. I'm sure I just need to have my cup of tea and then I will feel right as rain" Rhiannon smiled with some difficulty.

"Of course" Loghain, nodded and looked slightly worried, "We'll be in the library. You should get yourself ready for the Landsmeet, it is almost lunchtime" Rhiannon gave Loghain a nod and he started walking towards the library. Bryce lingered slightly, seemingly inspecting his daughter.

"Are you sure you will be fine, darling?" He said looking worriedly at her.

"Yes, quite" Rhiannon cleared her throat, "Possibly just nervous for the Landsmeet, now that I think about it"

"It is your first time, after all. But there's nothing to be nervous about, you already know most of us" Bryce smiled comforting towards her, before nodding and following Loghain into the library.

Rhiannon smelled her tea and the dense sweetness and the thick fullness of the milk made her retch and she quickly covered her mouth and hurried towards the kitchen and out towards the back garden, emptying her stomach in one of the bushes. Castiel came running after her, pulling her hair back and padding her back.

"Did you perhaps eat something strange, my Lady?"

"Did you perhaps serve me something strange?" Rhiannon retorted with irritation to the poor lady-in-waiting trying to nurse her, "I'm sorry, Castiel, that was unworthy of me"

"No need to apologize my lady" she chuckled and gave Rhiannon a piece of cloth to dry of the sick from her mouth, but before she could do that, another retch pushed its way up her throat and she heaved at the bush again. "That's right, get it all out" Castiel sighed and stroked her back.

"Oh sod it, now I'll _have_ to have a bath" Rhiannon sighed, but her nausea seemed to lighten slightly. "I need to drink something"

"Some schnapps should clear your system" Castiel nodded complying and led Rhiannon into the kitchen and soon presented her with a small glass of thick, disgusting strong liquor smelling of herbs.

"I might spew again from this, you know" Rhiannon said, shivering and pressing back a retch.

"Try to keep it down, alcohol fries away the baddies inside you" Castiel nodded.

"You don't say" Rhiannon said with a healthy heap of sarcasm, and swag the whole glass of schnapps in one go, shivering as the beverage burned her throat. "For Maker's sake, give me something drinkable – as long as it's not sweet tea"

Rhiannon was presented with a light and watery ale, which worked perfectly as she carefully drank it.

"I will bring up some hot water for your chambers, my Lady" Castiel said as she watched Rhiannon sip the ale, "I don't think you'll need a full bath, only a scrubbing. Luckily, you seemed to miss your hair" she smiled.

"Thank you kindly, Castiel" Rhiannon curved her lips as her body felt lighter from the cooling ale.

She made her way back through the hall and up the stairs and into Loghain's study and sat down in an armchair, waiting for Castiel. She closed her eyes and tried to relax herself, perhaps she was only nervous because of the Landsmeet, but she wasn't easily nervous – she wasn't even nervous before her wedding and why would she be nervous now? It could also be something she ate; perhaps she had become sensitive towards something, without knowing?

"Rhiannon", Loghain's voice made her open her eyes and look up at him. He crouched down in front of her with his hands on her knees, "Did you just throw up in the back garden?"

"I'm afraid I did", she could feel her cheeks burn with a blush at the typical insensitive confrontation her husband was a master of. Would she ever get used to him not even trying to mince his words?

"It's not nerves, is it?" He took her hands and stroked her hands and wrists.

"I don't know, I don't think so, really" Rhiannon sighed.

"You're not the nervous type" he twisted his lips, having an unclear expression in his light eyes, seeming to search for something about her. "When did you last bleed?"

"Excuse me?" The blunt question startled her, of course, they were married, but Rhiannon couldn't help but to feel somewhat uncomfortable talking about her bleeding with him.

"Well?" He waited for an answer, oblivious to her discomfort. She tried to search her mind; it was quite some time since she had woken up with blood in her bed. Perhaps Castiel would know better? She always took care of the beddings during her bleedings.

"I don't really remember, to be honest", she answered as he stroked her arm in a soothing manner with his calloused hand.

"You don't have it monthly?"

"Well, mostly, I suppose" she paused, "It can be a bit irregular. Why? Do you think I'm with child?" The realization made Rhiannon freeze to the core and she blushed deeply and her chest felt like it was burning and the nausea came back. _With child_. This is _not_ happening, Rhiannon thought to herself as her mind spun around itself.

"It wouldn't exactly be unexpected" Loghain snorted with some amusement and stroked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"We've been married for two weeks, it _would_ be unexpected" Rhiannon said with a serious expression on her face as she tried to keep as composed as possible.

"We'll just have to wait and see, my love. Are you well enough for the Landsmeet?"

"I believe so, Castiel forced me to drink some schnapps" Rhiannon cringed at the thought and hoped to the Maker that the child wasn't _Cailan's_. Loghain looked at her with a surprised expression as he rose to his full length again.

"Whatever for?" He said with a raised eyebrow.

"It will apparently burn out anything bad in my body" Rhiannon sighed. _Burn out the King's child, if nothing else_.

"Apparently", Loghain snorted as he leaned down as kissed her forehead, "Come down when you're ready and we'll leave for the meeting" Rhiannon nodded as she smiled.

It _has_ to be Loghain's child, she and Cailan had been very careful and made sure he never spilled inside her, which was a tactic that had worked well for her and Loghain the last two years. By the Maker, it must still work. _Stupid, stupid, stupid emotions and complicated relationships_ , Rhiannon thought as she started to get dressed.

"Does the summoned Landsmeet accept Lady Rhiannon Haelia Cousland Mac Tir as the ruling Teyrna of Gwaren?" King Cailan asked in a strong voice from his throne. Her father sat with a straight back at the King's left side with Fergus standing behind his chair and Loghain sat leaned back in his usual posture at the King's right side, while she herself stood presented in front of the gathered nobles in a long dark grey thick linen dress. Her hair was pulled up, as she was now a married woman and she had the headband of a Teyrna over her forehead. She had a light fur wrapped around her shoulders and her ceremonial dirk in a belt around her hips. Anora and her mother stood on one of the balconies looking down at her and Anora nodded encouraging to her.

"Highever agrees" Bryce exclaimed.

"Gwaren agrees" Loghain nodded.

"Denerim agrees"

"Amaranthine agrees"

"Rainesfere and Redcliffe agrees", Arl Eamon was as usual not attending and Bann Teagan represented both his own Bannorn and the Arling of Redcliffe.

"South Reach agrees"

"West Hill agrees"

"Waking Sea agrees", Bann Alfstanna smiled softly towards her and nodded.

"Southern Bannorn agrees"

"Dragon's Peak agrees"

"White River agrees"

"Oswin agrees"

"Drakon River agrees"

"River Dane agrees"

"City of Amaranthine agrees"

"Gherlen's Pass agrees"

"Alamar agrees"

"Lothering agrees"

"The Landsmeet is in agreement that Lady Rhiannon Haelia Cousland Mac Tir is declared the Teyrna of Gwaren" the Seneschal proclaimed and nodded to the King, Cailan gesticulated for her to walk up to the throne were she knelt before him, _distracting and shamelessly familiar_ , and bowed her head. Cailan arose from his Throne and was handed a brooch with the Teyrnir of Gwaren insignia from the Seneschal and Loghain rose and stood beside the King. Cailan nodded and gesticulated for Rhiannon to rise and when she had done so, he fastened the brooch in her pelt on her chest. He was then given a sword by Loghain, which he laid in Rhiannon's open palms.

"Teyrna Rhiannon Haelia Cousland Mac Tir, do accept your position?" Cailan asked her, in the same strong voice as before, with a remarkably serious frown on his face, definitely holding back some emotions of his, the gorgeous king of hers.

"I do so accept" Rhiannon answered.

"The Fereldan Teyrnir of Gwaren now has a new Teyrna. May the Maker look upon you with his favour" Cailan said and nodded towards her as he sat down on his throne again.

"My King", Rhiannon bowed her head in a curtsy.

"My King", Loghain mumbled as he bowed towards the King.

Rhiannon turned around and bowed her head towards the Landsmeet before she followed Loghain back to his chair and stood beside him. Loghain helped her to fasten the Teyrnir-sword in her belt and he gave her a small smile in a proud recognition before he sat down in his armchair again and the Landsmeet went about its usual business. There was nothing special being discussed, except the royal treasury that Loghain more or less had drained in his search for Maric, but the King together with the two Teyrns ruled that they would tax the guilds harder to ensure the stability of the treasury. The guilds were frowned upon in general in Ferelden and were mostly dwarven or orlesian. Fereldan tradition held the freedom of the workers and farmers' high and wealthy bandits more often than not ran the guilds. The fereldan Crown had tried to bann the guilds during Maric's rule, but it had led to uprisings in the larger settlements and impaired the relations with the dwarven city of Orzammar. What the crown could do, however, was to tax the guilds harder and since it wasn't illegal not to belong to a guild in Ferelden, as it were in both Orzammar and Orlais; the Crown protected the farmers and workers who refused to join. Maric had installed a Garda – holders of the peace – that patrolled the entire fereldan countryside and solved problems concerning the guilds and made sure no one was forcibly extorted by the guilds.

Other than the usual squabbles concerning infected disputes of land-boarders and different amounts of crops delivered to the Teyrnirs and the Crown, it was an uneventful Landsmeet. During the late afternoon it was decided they would declare the Landsmeet closed for the year and during the evening there was the usual dinner in the palace with celebrations connected to the opening and closing of the Landsmeet. Rhiannon's nausea had held itself back and she had been fine the whole day and now longed for food, feeling her stomach rumble at the thought. In any case, if she were with child, it was a blessing it came now when she and Loghain were married and not two years earlier – or, thank the Maker, during the year when Loghain was at sea. That would have been a complete disaster and scandal, her engagement with Loghain had been broken off and she'd been reduced to simply being Cailan's mistress. Being the King's mistress wasn't bad in any way, for a lower noble – but she was related to the royal family and as such could not _just_ be a concubine.

Before the last diner of the Landsmeet, there was as usual mingling in the great hall with wine and other spirits. Loghain was busy discussing this and that with Anora, since they were leaving for Gwaren. Rhiannon stood and sipped her wine, trying not to listen to Bann Alfstanna and Bann Loren discussing the economy of their Bannorns. She watched the big room and waited for a chance to catch Cailan's eyes and fortunately she didn't have to wait very long. She nodded for an exit and he nodded back to let her know that he had understood that she wanted to meet with him. Rhiannon excused herself, but before she could leave, Bryce and Fergus approached her with smiles and congratulated her to her new title. Rhiannon stole a nibble off of a mince pie Fergus had found on one of the tables with refreshments, she could then excuse herself once more and sneak out of the great hall into a slim corridor. She waited for Cailan in the library and they snuck into a smaller study, which had a hidden door and they went in behind it.

Behind the hidden doors there was more or less complete darkness, some of the small tower-like corridors had small windows that brought some light in, but they were few. Cailan pulled her to him in a hard movement and kissed her, she could do nothing else but to answer his kisses. Maker, she missed him – and she would have to be without him for a _long_ time now. Gwaren was farther away from Denerim than Highever, and since Loghain spent most of his time in Denerim, Cailan had no reason to come to Gwaren as often as to the larger village of Highever.

"Cailan-", Rhiannon moaned quietly as Cailan pushed her up against one of the stonewalls in the dark corridor and kept kissing her intensely. " _Cailan!_ "

"What is it?" He answered as he pulled up her skirt and lifted her up against the wall, letting her legs straddle his hips as he pushed his hard groin against her.

"I-", Rhiannon sighed, "I need to tell you something"

"Can I make love to you at the same time, Teyrna?" Cailan smirked as he kissed her neck and squeezed her buttocks.

"Cailan, I might be with child", Rhiannon hissed and Cailan let her down from his grip, staring at her in silence.

"Is it-" He finally begun, whispering, " _Mine_?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I don't think so, we've been careful, haven't we?" Rhiannon took his hands and looked up at the tall blonde man in front of her.

"Have you been careful with _him_?" Cailan almost snarled. "You've just married for Maker's sake"

"Not of late, no", Rhiannon looked down on their hands, twisting her fingers with Cailan's large slim fingers. The small hairs on his hands and fingers glimmered in the small light falling in from the windows.

"Congratulations, I suppose", he said with a sardonic look on his fair handsome face. His eyes looked both sad and angry in a way Rhiannon never seen before. "It was inevitable, of course. But, what if it's mine?"

"It will not be yours, even though it _would_ be, a child from my body can _never_ be yours"

"I know Rhia", Cailan leaned in and kissed her again, softly and with obvious pain in his face. "I love you"

"I love you too, Cailan" Rhiannon whispered in his ear as she squeezed his hands in her own. "Make love to me, please"

Cailan got out if his golden coat and unbuckled his sword-belt, Rhiannon helped him unbutton his trousers and she quickly stroked his groin back to his intense hardness. He lifted her up against the wall again and guided himself into Rhiannon. He was still wearing his crown and Rhiannon almost threw it off him when she tousled her fingers in his hair, silencing her moans against his full and sweet lips. He pushed hard into her and they looked at each other in the dark, Rhiannon could feel burning behind her eyes as she looked into his, they were sad, mixed with a miserable pleasure that sent aches through Rhiannon with every push of his cock inside her. She didn't want to see him suffer, but it was inevitable, just as he said. She hated that she loved two men, she hated that they both loved her – if she could have, she would have married them both. She felt the same pain as he did and a small bit of her wanted it to be his child, but she also knew it wasn't – it _couldn't_.

"I'll never leave you, Cailan", Rhiannon whispered when he had finished, he still held her in his embrace against the wall and breathed heavily in her neck. "I'll _always_ come back to you"

"I hope you will", Cailan sighed and she felt a heavy warm puff of air against her neck, "I couldn't stand being without you".

Loghain sat beside his wife at the large table in the palace dining hall, the summer was coming to an end and the Landsmeet had been short, which he was more than content with. Rhiannon and himself were to travel to Gwaren on the morrow, to have her installed in her new home. Loghain hadn't been to Gwaren since Celia had died; he had gone there quickly for the funeral and to sort things out with ruling the Teyrnir. In his absence ever since, the Seneschal had ruled in his place and that's how it was going to continue. He was not going to put Rhiannon through the same life he forced upon Celia, leaving her in the Teyrnir and running off to Denerim. He was, unfortunately, going to leave her there for a short while, to settle in while he helped Anora with Cailan, but that was it. He would have to travel more frequently between Denerim and Gwaren in the coming months, but he'd bring Rhiannon with him to Denerim further on and they'd probably spend half their time in Denerim and the other half in Gwaren.

He hadn't stayed in Denerim to look after Maric, not really. He stayed _because of_ Maric, and that thought made it ache in his chest for several reasons. Mostly, because Maric was no longer here, but also because he had abandoned a wife he actually did love, for a friend he just happened to love more. He had abandoned a wife that loved him, when she needed him the most, when they had lost their child, because _he_ couldn't handle the situation and just wanted to be near Maric. Maric had cheered him up, just as Rhiannon does – Celia could never cheer him up in that way, she had other qualities, surely, but she didn't create those warm feelings within him. Is it the Calenhad blood that does just that? Reaching far back to Calenhad's children, Maric and Rhiannon were kin, distant but still related. Was it some very persistent part of the Calenhad gene pool that just ticked something within him? But then, why did Cailan infuriate him as he did? _Calenhad blood_.

Loghain reached his arm around Rhiannon and she looked up at him with those deeply blue eyes, could he see Maric in them? No. No, he could not; perhaps he was only looking for ridiculous signs of some connection that accidentally had just appeared in a long family line.

"Are you going to eat that?" Rhiannon asked and nodded towards a bread dumpling on his plate.

"Still hungry, are you?" Loghain inspected his smirking wife and stroked her neck with one finger. She must be with child, nausea when she'd just woken up and now eating like a soldier. Loghain pushed his plate to her and she picked up the dumpling and started nibbling on it.

"When do we leave in the morning?" Rhiannon asked while chewing, busy breaking of small pieces of the dumpling and putting them into her mouth.

"As soon as the sun rises. It's a long journey", Rhiannon groaned at the sound of an early rising in the morning, a groaning that got the attention of Fergus sitting beside her.

"You might need to bind her to a horse this evening" Fergus laughed teasingly at his little sister, "That one", he nodded towards Rhiannon, "Is impossible to wake up before the sun has risen. And she get's _mean_ "

Loghain hadn't _really_ tried to drag his wife up early as of yet, he had let her sleep for as long as she wanted, since he woke up early and felt restless, often starting to work before the sun had even risen. Some nights he came home to find her sleeping in their bed and then the next morning he woke up and left again, while she was still sleeping. He did know that she could get mean if you woke her up, she had scolded him for nudging her lightly when she had snored early one morning, snarling at him and stealing most of the covers.

"I doubt that will be necessary" Loghain said in a neutral tone to Fergus.

"Nobody's binding me to a horse!" Rhiannon hissed, "I _can_ get up early, I just do not like it. At all"

"You once threw an empty flask at a servant for trying to wake you up" Fergus smirked while rolling his eyes, "Or do you remember that time when you-"

"Stop it!" Rhiannon elbowed her brother and glared at him.

"Ouch!" Fergus rubbed his upper arm where Rhiannon's elbow had landed its blow, "You've got surprisingly sharp elbows, do you know that?"

"And you are surprisingly annoying, do you know _that_?" Rhiannon said with irritated eyes, intentionally not looking at Fergus.

"Me? I'm just trying to help your husband, you know, letting him know not to stand too close to you while trying to wake you up" Fergus laughed again, "Or else he might get his head torn off. You don't keep weapons in your bedroom do you?" Fergus looked at Loghain again, "If you do, I'd remove them – she _can_ become quite feisty"

"Could you _please_ just shut up, Fergus!" Rhiannon now hit her brother hard with her fist on his upper arm.

"Maker's breath" Bryce turned to his children from his seat across from Loghain, "Did I raise a couple of boars? Stop fighting at the King's table for Andraste's sake! Act like the grown ups that you are supposed to be."

"Feisty" Fergus mumbled under his breath, winking at Loghain. Rhiannon sighed loudly and Loghain frowned slightly. Cailan looked haunted for some reason and Anora tried to look as neutral as himself. He didn't have siblings himself and Anora's sister died the same day she was born, so he had never really lived close to siblings in any manner before. He couldn't help but to feel conflicted about how to act when Rhiannon and Fergus got going with their bickering. They obviously loved each other dearly as siblings do, but they had on several occasions before acted like they were small children, squabbling and picking on each other. Neither was better than the other when it came to those ordeals.

"Perhaps we should call it an early night, hm?" Loghain looked at Rhiannon, "There are some things to take care of before tomorrow, after all"

"Yes, let's" Rhiannon seemed annoyed and quickly complied to say her good byes and leave for their estate. She would see her family before they rode out tomorrow, so it did not take long before Loghain and Rhiannon arrived in their Denerim estate.

"What's with you, Rhiannon?" Loghain frowned, "Why did you suddenly decide to become so provoked by your brother acting like he usually does?"

Rhiannon sighed and looked at her husband, "I don't know, he just get's to me sometimes, being so sodding childish"

"And being a Teyrna that hits her own brother in front of the King is not childish?" Loghain frowned and looked at her as he leaned against a wall in the study with his arms crossed over his chest.

"When you put it like that, it does sound childish, naturally, but it's not-" Rhiannon didn't get to finish.

"You need to able to control yourself better" Loghain's eyes were hard and they almost shone in the darkness of the room. Rhiannon sat down on the sofa and sighed, "It does not excuse Fergus' behaviour, but the boy doesn't always have his wits about him as you _normally_ do, and you cannot sink to the same level, simply because he knows no restraints"

"Something just clicked inside me" Rhiannon drew in a deep breath and stretched her neck back, pulling her shoulders up trying to relax her spine. "I apologise if I embarrassed you"

"You did not", Loghain said with a dry tone in his deep voice, "But you behaved unreasonable and you usually do not act in such a infantile manner" Rhiannon groaned and stood up from the sofa, glaring at Loghain for his comment about her being infantile.

"I'll just go to bed", she hissed as she walked past him. But a hand caught her upper arm, holding her back from leaving their downstairs study.

"Rhiannon, I do not wish to change anything about you, but you _did_ act irrational tonight. It is common when you are with child to act slightly different, and you know this as well. And if you're longer gone than we thought, it will start to effect you more and you need to think about that"

"Andraste's arse Loghain, stop lecturing me" Rhiannon snarled and tried to jerk her arm lose from Loghain's grip.

"Now you listen to me" Loghain's eyes burned icily, "I will _not_ accept this kind of behaviour from you in public. I've married you because I love you and we are equals, but if you force me to control you because you cannot control yourself, trust me, I _will_ "

"Oh, _how_ will you control me then? Are you going to beat me, lock me in a tower? You don't have that kind of power over me, _Loghain_ , I am a Cousland" Rhiannon locked her eyes with Loghain's and did her best to look threatening, but his grip on her arm had started to hurt.

"You're _not_ a Cousland, Rhiannon" Loghain grabbed her arm even harder and tugged her, "You're a Mac Tir and my _wife_ and as such you will behave yourself, not act like a spoiled child. Do _not_ force me to beat you into submission"

"I cannot believe you" Rhiannon snorted, "You would lay hand on a pregnant woman, your _wife_?" Loghain didn't answer, but his grip didn't loosen and Rhiannon realised what she had just said. He had murdered a pregnant servant just weeks back, without hesitation. Why would he hesitate to lay his hand on her, if he ever saw it necessary? The law was clear on the part of a husbands right to discipline his wife. Of course, she could tell Cailan about Loghain's threats, but what good would that do, besides make them even more angry at each other? It would also insinuate that Cailan felt protective over her, which was _bad_. Why did she make such a mess of this? Why did she agitate him like this? She _loved_ him and she knew that he was right, she was behaving irrationally, but she simply couldn't help herself, she couldn't back down and let him win – she didn't even want to have this stupid row, but something had twisted inside her this morning, setting her on edge. She was being pulled _away_ , from her family, from her lover, she was being placed in Gwaren, pregnant and _alone_.

"I do not want to hurt you, Rhiannon", Loghain loosened his grip on her. Her arm ached and would be badly bruised in the morning, she thought as she stoked her arm and glared at Loghain. "I'll sleep elsewhere tonight, a servant will wake you in the morning" Loghain walked past her and headed out of the study.

"Please, don't" Rhiannon cried in a hushed voice after him, and he stopped without turning towards her. "I don't want to sleep without you"

Loghain sighed deeply with his face in his palms and then groaned highly as he drew his hands over his face. "Maker", he sighed again. Rhiannon walked towards him and stroked his arm.

"Please, stay" she looked up at him, he still had anger in his eyes and he didn't look at her.

"I can't believe you made me say those things" He rubbed his temples.

"I might be with child", Rhiannon shrugged, "At least I haven't thrown a plate of wine and cheese at you yet", she tried to smirk.

"No, you haven't. But it sounds rather preferable right now"

"Come on, let's get some rest before tomorrow" Rhiannon said and took his hand as they walked up to their private chambers.


	25. 21 The Teyrna of Gwaren

Chapter 21 – The Teyrna of Gwaren

14th Kingsway, 9:26

Gwaren

"Maker's breath woman, from your feet! _Charge_!"

Loghain's deep voice was harsh and rugged as he let out a war cry that would make her shake if she wasn't so determined to take him down. The shield on her left lower arm was heavy and she felt it weigh her down and her long-sword was clumsy in comparison to the daggers and dirks she usually fought with. But she knew he wouldn't give in, and neither would she – her strength had just started to build up again and she was trying to trace the steps in her memory, from what ser Cauthrien had taught her when Loghain was away. Time seemed to slow as she could she Loghain charging against her, pushing himself from the ground forward and holding his shield firm and slightly angled. His knees were somewhat bent as he rushed towards her and his upper body crouched. As he was seconds from crashing into her with his shield, she swirled out off the way and pushed the pummel of her swords at him with all the force she could muster and then swung her shield from right to left, letting it bash into him, but his shield met up with hers within the blink of an eye and his sword swept over her shins as she cried out in pain. A rough push from Loghain's shield had her on the ground again, with the point off his sword against her throat.

He stood over her in his full length, breathing heavily and she watched his heavy chest move up and down in his linen shirt. The bastard still refused to wear proper armour, but felt completely oblivious about forcing her into full accoutrement, of course that was very much cautionary from his part, she _was_ pregnant, after all. But she wore so much metal by this point; she could crash into a warship without hurting herself.

"You know you'll have to say it", the smug sod looked down at her with his crystal eyes.

"Oh sod it, sod _you_ , I yield" Rhiannon murmured. Loghain drew back his sword and then he reached out his hand for her to take it so that he could pull her up.

"You need more practice", he said without any emotion, "You had every chance to strike a killing blow at me, since I was the one charging"

"I know" Rhiannon threw her shield on the ground and sighed, trying to catch her breath.

"You should have charged, just jumping away is a last resort, it works well if someone comes at you when you're unprepared" Loghain leaned forward at his blunt sword and gave her a piercing look.

"You're too fast, how can you expect me to measure up to _you_ of all people?" Rhiannon had a slightly annoyed look upon her face.

"My love, I'm only trying to make you understand the faults in your sparring. You would have had the same result with one of the guards, I assure you. I'm an old man and not half as good as I once were" Loghain said and picked up her shield and gave it to her.

"That's the worst lie I've ever heard" Rhiannon snorted in disbelieve, "You'd slash your way through anything if properly motivated, Maker's sake Loghain!"

"If only" Loghain chuckled and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"I promise you, I could take down one of our guards right now", Rhiannon squared her shoulders and smirked at her husband, "To prove how horribly hard you are to fight"

"Is that so?" Loghain smiled crookedly.

"Or, you could fight one of our guards – either way, it proves the point. If I was to win, it proves that you are more or less unbeatable and if you win, well, it proves you're not the old man you claim to be, dear husband" Rhiannon smiled with a challenging look on her face.

"Well, if you're dead set on fighting one of the guards, who am I to stop you?" Loghain smirked and leaned in to kiss her. 

* * *

"Now, don't be soft on her, that's an order", Loghain shouted to the guard with a stern commanding voice, there had been several young guards that had felt eager to try out the new Teyrna's fighting skills. The guard standing across her now was in his 20's, being on the top of his physical performance. He was almost as tall as Loghain and in full armour. This _would_ be a challenge, no doubt – and Rhiannon had already fought Loghain and practiced for half an hour. She could see Loghain's smug smile from where he stood leaned against a fence. She inspected the guard before her, trying to read his stance and predict how he would move and swing. He was trained as a soldier, but stationed as a guard, a Gwaren soldier and young, therefore trained after Loghain's wishes, but not trained by Loghain personally. That _was_ an advantage, surely.

The guard nodded towards Rhiannon and she took a breath and nodded back, while pushing her stance deep into the ground, bending her knees slightly and crouching. The guard followed her with his eyes and she followed him, every one of his movements. She steadied her shield and clasped her sword even harder, waiting for him to lose his patience and charge at her. He did lose his patience, quite fast.

As he charged against her with his shield, she fastened her stance and blocked him cutting at his shin with her sword and pushing him off with her shield. He stood his ground, but had been thrown off by his own charge, however, his eyes shone with adrenalin from the pain of his shins and he swung at her with his sword, but she managed to counter his sword with her own and she pushed with all her strength and kicked at his knee. He threw at her with his shield and she had to jump back and he quickly mounted another attack, this time she swirled aside which he wasn't prepared for and she could strike him hard with the pummel of her sword and use her last strength to kick him over his knee again. He tried to turn around and bash her with his shield but his angle was just an inch wrong and she could quickly lean out of the way and throw herself at him with her shield, forcing him down on the ground. She sat on top of him with her sword against his throat.

"I yield, Teyrna Mac Tir", the guard breathed heavily and Rhiannon rose from him and looked back at Loghain who was walking over to them.

"I need to oversee the training of our guards, it seems" Loghain smirked as he stopped and put his arms across his chest.

"Is it _that_ hard to admit I am not terrible?" Rhiannon looked up at Loghain.

"You're not terrible, you just make quite a few mistakes" Loghain shrugged and turned to the guard, "Thank you, you're dismissed"

"Yes, Teyrn, Teyrna", the guard nodded before he walked off.

"Anyway, I got to prove a point" Rhiannon looked smug.

"Well, if I am only half as good as I once were, you'd been dead a long time ago" Loghain chuckled and stroked her cheek. "You need a bath"

"So do you" Rhiannon smiled and shoved her shield in Loghain's arms and started walking back towards the castle.

* * *

Gwaren was indeed different from Highever. It was darker even though it lay just on the shoreline of the Amaranthine Ocean, the woods seemed to blind the sun during most parts of the day. It was definitely the lowest one could come in the Lowlands; there was no hills or mountains, no cliffs – only stony beaches and trees. But it was enchanting in its own way, it was very green and luscious, outside the thick forests there were bushes and beech trees growing thick and thriving among the large stones coming out of the ocean and laying strewn along the long beach that stretched almost up to Denerim. You could see for miles over the Ocean, on a clear day it felt as if you could look all the way to the worlds ending when you stood on the shore. The forests were pleasant for riding or picking mushrooms and berries, or for simple walks in the thick and damp darkness among the trees.

Gwaren village was small and almost everyone living there worked with building boats and carriages, considering Gwaren was full of woodlands and resources perfect for those trades, but they had a few farms lying in small groves across the region, the earth was somewhat stony and made farming harder than in the Bannorn in the middle of Ferelden, but the people living here strode on.

When Rhiannon and Loghain had arrived in Gwaren a few weeks past, the whole town had greeted them and they had been completely poured with gifts, mostly foodstuff and flowers and Rhiannon had made sure to greet every villager personally. It was such a quaint little village, it had a tavern and an inn and a small market square that was busiest on the sixth day of the week when the whole village assembled for a farmer's market. It didn't take long for Rhiannon to learn the names of the fishmonger, the smith, the innkeeper, the tavern owner, the cheese lady, the baker and the Chantry Mother. Gwaren castle didn't have its own Chantry, as Highever had, the village was so small it only needed one Chantry.

Loghain was to leave for Denerim in two weeks and during those two weeks, before the snow started to fall, because the snow came early in Gwaren, Rhiannon would ride out to the farms and visit all the farmers in the Region. It wasn't necessary, but she wanted to. Rhiannon knew how well Celia had known her people, and how little Loghain knew them; she felt it important to keep Celia's legacy in that way. She had been a good Teyrna and Rhiannon didn't want the people of Gwaren to think that they had been abandoned, specially not now that they had gotten a new Teyrna. Loghain had always been reluctant to his title, but Rhiannon was not, she was raised to become a Teyrna. It had even been some discussion for her to succeed Fergus in inheriting the Highever Teyrnir, but since they could cement this alliance between the two remaining Teyrns, it was deemed unnecessary.

Rhiannon had strolled all over Gwaren and peeked in everywhere and she had made a routine of going to the baker two times a week to personally buy both sweet and savoury pasties, even though the kitchen staff at the castle could make them just as well – but it was _important_ for Rhiannon to build relationships with the people of Gwaren. She visited the Chantry on the two sacred days of the week, to light candles and pray. Andraste had not spoken to her in a long time, not even on this year's All Soul's Day – perhaps things had settled themselves somewhat, even for their beloved prophet, Rhiannon thought to her self. She would sit in the Chantry and look at the portrait of Celia that hung close to the altar. She was one of the greatest benefactors of the Chantry – she had grown up in Gwaren and had met the unwilling Teyrn when he'd first arrived here as a young, war torn man. She was the daughter of carpenters, elevated to the status of Teyrna, just as Loghain had been elevated from farmers and freeholders. Her portrait showed a blond, soft woman, very much like Anora. The portraits Rhiannon had grown up with showed her parents in armour, ready to walk into war to protect their Teyrnir, instead Celia was shown standing among roses holding a scroll of parchment. She wore no weapons, not even a ceremonial dirk and didn't wear an aggressive expression on her face, but instead an expression that looked like sadness. She had been fierce in her own way – that much Rhiannon had understood from Loghain and Anora, but she seemed to have carried much sadness through her life. Some people were like that, carried burdens for no reason at all, not knowing where the burdens came from. Rhiannon had an aunt like that, she was always very sad, as from what Rhiannon could remember. Eleanor had said she suffered from melancholia, which ultimately killed her when she threw herself off one of the cliffs outside Highever village. Rhiannon didn't remember much from that, she was only a few years old, but Fergus remembered her more clearly. Bryce still carried the guilt from it, this much Rhiannon knew, but she felt it somewhat banal, since her aunt had chosen it herself. It was a sin, of course, but one must govern ones own life and if you do not wish to live the life you've been given – it must be up to oneself what to do with it. Rhiannon knew, for example, that in Orzammar, dwarfs ventured into the Deep Roads when they felt done with their life, no matter their age.

There was something beautiful about it, somehow, getting to decide your own fate.

"There you are" Loghain came and sat down beside her along the battlement of the castle. "Aren't you freezing? It's really starting to become quite cold", he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"No, not really", Rhiannon looked up at her husband and smiled gently, "The ocean is mesmerising, don't you think? And you can watch both the ocean and the beach go on forever, in all directions"

"You can, indeed" Loghain nodded and kissed her hair. "A messenger came from Highever a moment ago, your mother has written"

"Again? I got a message only last week" Rhiannon snorted with a small smile.

"She must miss you" Loghain clasped one her shoulder with his hand and pushed her closer to his warm body. "Have you told them yet?"

"About the child? No, not yet. I don't know when you are suppose to tell a thing like that"

"Perhaps it's best to wait a while longer, to have it confirmed more accurately. And not completely expose that I had you before we wed" Loghain chuckled quietly to himself.

"You're such a farmers boy, you know that?" Rhiannon curled into her husbands arm.

"Nobles are just as bad, apparently" He smirked and breathed into Rhiannon's hair. "Come on, it's best you read the letter in case it's something urgent" Loghain led her back into the castle under his arm, his body oozing warmth, as always.

The castle was large, even larger than the Highever castle. They had two wings and a main part in the middle of the large circular building. The castle itself had high battlements that stretched out to the ocean on the eastern side and something much like a small village within the battlements. Outside the battlements to the southwest, the small village of Gwaren stretched out and ended just where the forest started.

In the main part of the castle they had a large hall that joined a throne room that was seldom used, only on very special occasions. There was also a larger library, two large studies and a large dining hall and a smaller private dining area closer to the kitchens. Then there were the servants' quarters, which adjoined the main part and were about as large as one floor of the wings, and the kitchens and washing areas. Just outside the kitchen was a large herb- and vegetable garden, from that garden you could reach the castle gardens, with and entrance into the great hall and the throne room. The main part of the castle only had one floor, but an incredible ceiling height and in the ceilings hung massive iron chandeliers, all through the great hall and the throne room.

Loghain and Rhiannon's quarters were in the eastern wing on the second floor, mainly because Rhiannon wanted to wake up and see the ocean. The eastern wing had been the guest quarters before, but the servants had decorated them with lavish textiles and tapestries and made them homely when Loghain and Rhiannon had arrived. Both Castiel and Loghain's footman Arlethan had rooms in the eastern wing, but on the first floor – the third floor wasn't used at the moment, but Rhiannon was determined to have it used for something. The view from up there was spectacular.

The Seneschal stayed in the north-western wing where the guest quarters had been moved and each wing contained one study and tree large rooms for every accommodation, and there were two accommodation areas for every floor and the wings had three floors, so there was a vast amount of rooms. But the layout was simple for which Rhiannon had been happy, or else she'd spend the winter getting lost inside her home.

* * *

Rhiannon sat on their bed, reading her mother's letter by candlelight and sipping sweet tea spiced with apple liquor, mostly to soothe her into a comfortable sleep. Loghain was in his study a few doors down, probably studying his maps as he usually did during evenings. He could spend hours tracing different routes and mapping out areas he'd been in, his maps were dear to him and he held on to them like they were his children. Rhiannon found it somewhat bizarre, naturally she could admire the beauty of many maps, especially those with illustrations and very detailed descriptions of interesting areas, but Loghain's love for his maps was beyond her understanding.

The letter from Highever contained nothing special, it was as Loghain had thought, her mother only missed her. She wrote about their daily life and reported about Oren and the mischief he was up to all over the castle. Rhiannon decided she would write an answer in the morning, she was beginning to feel too tired to draw out parchments and ink and as a yawn came over her, she dressed down into her shift and crawled under the sheets. The tea had the desired effect and it didn't take long for her to drift into a light but lovely sleep.

She awoke when she heard Loghain undressing, pulling off his boots by the side of their bed and as usual, throwing his trousers and shirt nonchalantly on the floor. He was usually a very tidy man, organized and meticulous with his things, but not when it came to his clothing. If the servants hadn't been fast enough she could find his clothing strewn all over their quarters, pieces of armour, a coat that was too warm or too cold, socks and belts. Rhiannon didn't complain, because she was much the same, but with everything. It was simply a bit baffling that a man like Loghain just threw his garments around without any sort of orderliness.

Soon, he was stripped down completely; always sleeping completely nude, and she felt the beddings move when he lay down and stretched out beside her. She turned around and looked at him, his eyes were already closed and he lay on his back. He always slept on his back, not moving at all, with his hands on his stomach and one leg slightly bended and uncovered by the beddings. Rhiannon had to be wrapped in beddings and she moved quite a lot before she fell asleep, she always needed to have some of the covers between her legs to even be comfortable. It was as if the feeling of her thighs rubbing together when she lay on her side made it impossible to fall asleep, and she _had_ to lie on her side or almost on her stomach. Loghain had teased her for taking so much space in the bed. _Legs and arms everywhere_ , he had smirked. Apparently he had woken up one early morning, unable to breathe properly, with her hand over his face, blocking both his nose and mouth.

Rhiannon pushed herself closer to Loghain and his face flinched slightly and she stroked his chest, the black hairs had started to become just a tiny bit greyish in some small places, but it was hardly noticeable. He still had a very young looking body, for a man almost 50 years old, he was well muscled and his chest was still flat and even just like a young man's. His skin was rugged and somewhat weather-torn, but pale in a milky way, only a hint greyish from age and he had scars more or less all over him. The most prominent one on his hip and stomach, it looked almost deadly. Like it would have gutted him completely, yet, there he laid, one of the two most handsome men Rhiannon had every laid eyes on, no matter all his faults.

Her hand wandered over his chest, following his chest-hair down over his stomach towards his groin. When she reached his public hair she felt a hand grab her neck, pulling her face up to meet his and their lips closed around one another. She was always the one making the kisses wet, with her full lips, meeting Loghain's thin lips, but his kisses were deep and arousing. He reached in from under her, around her back and pushed her towards him as they kissed, steadying his grip on her neck and she could feel him stiffening around her hand, as she stroked him under the beddings. They didn't need to say a word to each other; their lovemaking in the evenings had almost a sacred tone to it. During the mornings, Loghain could be rough with her. If she woke up when he got out of the bed he would pull her towards him with force, ignoring her being newly awakened by him and enter her without warning. But she enjoyed it was well, there was something primal to it, something very animalistic in how he _claimed_ her with force. During the evenings, he worked more slowly, touching her gently but with a decisive hand, using his mouth at times to satisfy her before he entered her. He always had very direct hands, they knew what they wanted and made sure to take it, without pardon. Loghain couldn't seem to do anything wrong when they made love, everything felt _good_. Even when it hurt, it felt good.

His hand wandered down from her neck to her hip, and as she stroked him to a full hardness, he touched her privates gently in a circulating manner, making her tremble and let out small moans against his mouth as they kissed. He had a day's stubble on his chin, which scratched her in a way that was beginning to become familiar to her, almost ensuring her with a feeling of complete safety, because it meant it was him and he was near. So very near.

He then rolled over her, pushing his hard cock against her pulsating opening, kissing her neck the way she loved, making her shiver in the best kind of way, tracing her neck and down her shoulders with his lips. That could almost make her squeal sometimes when he egged her on in a terribly unreasonable way. He embraced her with one arm and stroked her breasts with the hand of another, the feel of his calloused hand against her thin soft skin made her whimper, as he reached down to his cock and guided himself to her opening, pushing himself in. He groaned and Rhiannon arched her back as he entered, he always felt so large, always.

It was gentle lovemaking, this evening, he embraced her as he moved inside her, grinding against her to help her reach her point of release, and when she'd reached it, he let himself get there as well. He kissed her deeply as his body flinched more intensely and she could feel him pulsating inside her as he spilled into her. Afterwards, he would pull away from her quite quickly and lie on his back beside her, pulling her close to him and kiss her forehead and her lips, breathing in to her hair and stroke her back lightly with only one or two fingers. He was man of set routines, Rhiannon had learnt since they started to share a home, routines with everything. She knew exactly at what point he would fall asleep after the copulation, while she laid there close to him, curled up in his embrace, silently counting the visible scars on his body.

He was so completely peaceful just then, the skin on his face relaxed, just as his jaw. His body seemed less imposing and that of a great warrior, more of a man, a simple and normal man without all his guilt and pain. She loved every part of him, but she felt a certain warmth inside her, seeing him sleep and looking so filled with peace.


	26. 22 The woodland fields of Gwaren

Chapter 22 – The woodland fields of Gwaren

23th Kingsway, 9:26

Gwaren

It was during little more than a week Rhiannon were to ride between the farms surrounding Gwaren, visiting two farms each day. The Seneschal had insisted on sending words to half the farmers about accommodating the Teyrna during her visit, even though Rhiannon had wanted to camp during the nights. Rhiannon and Fergus had grown up camping in the beech forests in Highever and she missed it. But the Seneschal insisted it was getting too cold for camping and the woods were too dangerous, he had told her that the farmers would feel insulted if they wouldn't be able to invite the new Teyrna for evening meals and give her a bed to sleep in. The fact that her entourage more or less camped or were to sleep in a cowshed didn't seem to bother the Seneschal at all, no matter the possibility of freezing nights ahead.

In the thickness of the damp forest, the cold wasn't as plain as out by the ocean, it was as if the trees closed the cold out and protected itself and those who ventured within. Rhiannon's legs clasped around the broad back of a large fereldan breed work- and warhorse with dense long brown fur and a long mane she could warm her hands in. Castiel rode beside her as well as the commander of the Gwaren guards and two regular guards rode shortly behind them. They were traveling light and both Castiel and Rhiannon stared into the dense wood around them with fascination.

"You know, my Lady, there are all kinds of ghostly stories of malevolent fairies and other deities roaming these woods", Castiel said, with a small smirk, but her eyes told Rhiannon she seemed to question her own rationality this deep into the forest.

"The servant's been telling you ghost stories, miss Castiel?" The commander chuckled and cast Castiel an amused look. The commander was a knight, ser Gustav of Gwaren, and one of several military commanders stationed in Gwaren during peacetime to command guards or the soldiers belonging to the Teyrnir. He was a stern man in his late 30's, but he had a playful and almost charming smile and was surprisingly talkative for a soldier. He was not very tall for a fereldan man, but broad and well muscled, as a soldier should be. Loghain was insistent on keeping not only his solders in constant good form, but also his commanders. He refused to have military officers and lieutenants under him that grew lazy and fat because of their more strategic and leading roles. Commander Gustav had long wavy brown hair that he pulled back from his temples to a small knot on the back of his head and a trimmed beard covering his lower face. He had stern thick eyebrows, but his eyes had something childish and kind about them. Rhiannon could however, see the looks he gave Castiel and she noted the blushes on Castiel's cheeks when he winked 'discreetly' at her behind Rhiannon's back. The commander was a married man, but Rhiannon knew nothing about his marriage and both the commander and Castiel were adults and could do what they wanted. Perhaps it was a comforting arrangement, Castiel being an elf meant she would not be able to marry a human man and Rhiannon, selfish as she was, didn't want to lose her lady-in-waiting.

"Malevolent fairies" Rhiannon rolled her eyes and smirked at Castiel, "I reckon these small folks should be more scared of the soles of our boots than we of them"

"Oh, don't say that mistress" Castiel looked at Rhiannon with a serious expression, "They are said to be very mischievous, snatching the babes of new parents and poisoning the animals of farms if they've been mistreated"

"They're thieving animal assassins, then?" Rhiannon mused.

"Perhaps" Castiel answered with an insecure smile, looking slightly pale.

"There's no need for worries, miss", the commander chuckled, "I've lived all my life in these woods, born of freeholders to the southwest, and none of my kin were snatched in the night, nor were our animals poisoned"

"Perhaps, commander Gustav, your people did not mistreat the fairies", Castiel said.

"Castiel, don't be ridiculous. It's _tales_ , there's no such things as evil fairies living in the forests" Rhiannon said and gave Castiel a reassuring smile.

"Of course, thing's happens on a farm, that's true. But I can swear by Andraste it was not the work of fairies", the commander nodded and smiled to Castiel. "It's simply tales meant to keep bairns out of the woods and safe from the _actual_ dangers hiding among the trees"

"What dangers?" Castiel's eyes widened and she seemed to become even paler. _Sensitive city elf_ , Rhiannon thought to herself and quietly mused at her friend and lady-in-waiting.

"Oh, the usual", Commander Gustav sighed, "Boars, bandits and the odd bear"

"There are _bears_ roaming these woods?" Castiel gasped and shot a terrified look at the commander.

"Of course there are bears here, Castiel. Maker's breath, we're in the Lowlands" Rhiannon turned to look at Castiel.

"What if we meet one? Or a boar? I've heard those swines can be dangerous if they feel threatened", Castiel asked with a trembling voice. She was obviously not used to the wild natures of the countryside. Sure, she had lived in Highever for several years with Rhiannon – but she grew up in the Denerim Alienage and in Highever, she seldom even left the castle walls.

"We kill it, of course" Rhiannon smiled cunningly. "That's why we have the commander with us, and the guards. If there were no dangers, you and I could have travelled by our selves"

"Oh, I doubt Teyrn Mac Tir had allowed you to travel these woods with only your lady-in-waiting", the commander said sternly, "Even if there were no dangerous wild animals or bandits"

"He wouldn't be given a choice in the matter, Commander Gustav" Rhiannon smiled and the commander chuckled.

"Perhaps not, my Lady" 

* * *

The farms were of differing sizes depending on whether they were freeholders or simple farmers renting the lands from the Teyrnir, but they had all welcomed Rhiannon and her company with open arms. Some with just a hint of surprise at Rhiannon's willingness to get to know them, probably due to the reputation of her husband – their taciturn Teyrn who'd rather spend his time at the Denerim court. But Rhiannon asked them questions about themselves and their lives and their farms and families. They had been presented with an abundance of food and ale, since they just had passed the harvest-times. At one of the farms, were they spent their first night, they had been fed the most delicious pasties, filled with minced beef and mushrooms Rhiannon had never even seen before. They called them chanterelles and they grew deep within the woods. They tasted buttery and had a distinct gamy taste of moss and wood. Rhiannon asked for the recipe and the farmer's wife became so excited she almost spilled a whole jug of ale. Illiterate as the farmer's wife was, Castiel wrote the recipe down for Rhiannon on a small piece of parchment the commander had in one of his saddle bags. Rhiannon also asked how they felt about the taxes, in Gwaren they were light since Loghain didn't believe in taxing the working people harder than was necessary, as long as the Teyrnir survived and the castle had a steady economy, he did not feel it necessary to indulge in luxuries at the expense of the people of Gwaren. Regions such as Amaranthine and Redcliffe had rather high taxes and both Arls were wealthy beyond their needs to support their Arlings, which was something that disgusted Loghain and Rhiannon could understand his position, because of his heritage and upbringing.

Rhiannon also made sure to ask how the Garda was working in the region, if they helped them with the traveling guilds and bandits, and it seemed they felt protected and secure, even though corruption was very common within Ferelden.

Rhiannon and Castiel shared a room and bed during the nights and the Commander slept out in the cowsheds and barns with the two guards. The living-conditions were of course a lot more simple than Rhiannon was used to, but the homes of the farmers were neatly looked after and cosy. It was easier to keep a small hut or farmhouse warm, than an entire castle, so Rhiannon never felt cold when she went to bed. Castiel wasn't as warm as Loghain, but it didn't bother Rhiannon, since the small houses they slept in were wooden and didn't exudate as much cold as the heavy stone of the castles. Rhiannon had slept beside Castiel before when they had travelled to Denerim with only her father and brother and stayed at inns were there weren't as many rooms as in the castle of an Arl and she was a quiet and still sleeper. Much like Loghain Castiel was a still sleeper, but without the snoring, instead she softly mumbled in her sleep at times and wiggled her feet slightly. But she didn't complain as much as Loghain about Rhiannon tossing around in her sleep, and _that_ was nice. 

* * *

They continued their journey through the Gwaren woodlands, visiting every registered farm and a few small households in the woods during the days. Rhiannon noticed how Castiel and commander Gustav seemed to grow closer, which gave her a warm feeling, but also an ache. She did not like being away from Loghain, he had been away for so long and only came back a few months ago. She liked having him close, she was beginning to feel like a part of herself was missing when he was too far away from her. When she couldn't just go look for him when she had something she just _had_ to say and find him hovering over his maps in his study, or out training soldiers on one of their fields. Their newly found life in Gwaren seemed to fit him well, he seemed to have longed for a more simple life for a long time, but somehow denied himself. It was of course because of Maric, Rhiannon thought; he couldn't bear to leave Maric in Denerim. As much as she loved the thought of her husband being happy and content in Gwaren, she longed for Denerim and she knew that it was a wishful dream that Loghain would _stay_ content in Gwaren. She also thought of Cailan and how unhappy he was, she knew he was – there was a sorrow lingering inside him, always searching for something he couldn't have. She seemed to be able to relieve some of his discomfort, but he still fucked whores and servants, even though she was nearby. Out of spite, perhaps, for her love for Loghain. But she knew that Cailan _loved_ Anora, but he didn't lay with her much. He thought her boring and stuck up, but Rhiannon recognized it was mostly his own fault for having set her aside and indulged himself in others. Rhiannon were only so liberal with his many lovers, because she wasn't very faithful herself, but she understood Anora's predicament. She did, however, miss Cailan, more than she should. Perhaps she even loved him more than Loghain, she didn't know – she knew only that she loved them in different ways, the was a passion with Cailan she didn't have with Loghain. It was impossible with Loghain, much because of his person, he just wasn't that emotionally passionate and, well, _childish_. Cailan burned with an almost indescribable sensation of young lust, which became more primal with Loghain. They were so different, but she loved them each for it, all the same.

"Teyrna Mac Tir, a messenger is riding in!" Commander Gustav shouted to Rhiannon as they visited one of the northern farms, close to the wild parts of the Brecilian Forest. The Seneschal had made up a very detailed timetable for her journey, so the messenger could easily find her. Rhiannon nodded to the commander and excused herself from the people they were visiting and walked to meet the incoming rider.

"Teyrna Mac Tir, you have urgent messages from Highever and Denerim alike", the messenger said and gave her two rolled up parchments before he jumped off his horse, waiting to see if she wanted to send an answer with him back to Gwaren. "The one from Denerim arrived urgently by crow, my Lady". Rhiannon felt a sting in her stomach and a slight nausea sweeping over her chest. Crows were a precarious way of sending messages, but it took half the time of a rider and if a message needed to be delivered as fast as possible, one used both riders and crows.

Rhiannon rolled up the parchment from Denerim first.

 _26th Kingsway, Denerim_

 _There has been an attempt on Teyrn Couslands life. I know no more than that he is hurt. I am traveling to Highever with haste. I urge you to leave for Highever immediately. Bring at least four riding heavily armed guards with you on the way._

 _LMT_

Rhiannon hadn't noticed she had stopped breathing, the messenger looked at her as she stared empty into the woods, as if her eyes were stuck. She then crumpled the letter from Denerim and quickly untied the band around the message from Highever and broke the seal as she rolled the parchment out with shaking hands.

 _24th Kingsway, Highever Castle_

 _Rhiannon,_

 _There has been an attempt on father's life, he his badly hurt and we do not yet know if he will live. We have sent words to Denerim informing the King. I honestly do not know if he will live much longer, as I am writing this. Keep yourself safe and by the Maker, stay vigilant. We do not know from where this threat is coming, the assassins escaped before our guards could fetch them in for questioning._

 _Write me a reply so that I know you have received my message._

 _Fergus Cousland_

"Do you have parchment and ink for a reply?" Rhiannon asked the messenger who nodded quickly and opened one of his saddlebags, handing Rhiannon a small parchment and a small feather pen as he held the ink for her. She wrote her message against the back of the messenger.

 _28_ _th_ _Kingsway, Gwaren_

 _Fergus,_

 _I received your message. I also received a message from Loghain in Denerim. He is riding with haste to Highever and will hopefully have arrived when you get this message._

 _Loghain has urged me to travel to Highever, escorted by four heavy guards. I will arrive in four days._

 _I pray for the Maker to have mercy._

 _Rhiannon Mac Tir_

The messenger quickly dusted the parchment with a powder to dry the ink and then rolled up the parchment and sealed it with the Gwaren insignia.

"To Highever Castle, for Fergus Cousland or Loghain Mac Tir if Fergus can't be found. With haste" Rhiannon told the messenger as he mounted his horse.

"Right away, Teyrna Mac Tir", he nodded and set of in a fast gallop towards Gwaren through the woods.

"Commander Gustav!" Rhiannon shouted as she walked towards him, "I need to set off for Highever Castle at once. My father might be dying" Rhiannon fought against the tears trying to press themselves out of her eyes and the sobs thickening her throat. The commander shouted at the guards to gather their horses as Castiel rushed to get their things. Rhiannon quickly explained to the people on the farm that there had been an emergency and she'd have to leave. They were very kind, having overheard the reason for her leaving, and assured Rhiannon that if there was anything she needed, she'd but to ask.

Fortunately the ride back to Gwaren took only a couple of hours, having the horses scamper through the thick woods. When they arrived the commander quickly summoned four heavily armoured guards and brought out the stable master's fastest five horses and had them readied. Castiel and Rhiannon rushed in to the castle where the Seneschal met them, aware of the situation. While Castiel gathered the most important things Rhiannon might need during the journey, Rhiannon changed into leather trousers and high over-knee boots. She pulled a knitted grey tunic over her shift and got into a black riding coat that reached down to her shins in the back and covered her front body down over her groin, protecting her stomach. She fastened a belt around her hips with her dirk and a dagger, as well as strapping a dagger to the inside of her right boot. Then Castiel came with her fur-clad cape and swung it over Rhiannon's shoulders.

"I've given your saddle bags and bedroll to the servants, they're bringing them out to the stable master. The kitchen quickly readied some food for your journey, I am afraid it is very simple, but it will keep you feed" Castiel said as she fastened the cape and drew the hood of the cape up over Rhiannon's head.

"Thank you, Castiel", Rhiannon smiled and pulled strengthened leather gloves over her hands, "I'll send a message when we have arrived"

Castiel nodded with a worried look about her face, "Be careful, my Lady"

"I'll do my best" Rhiannon tried to smile before she marched out of the room.

The Seneschal followed her as she walked out through the castle great hall, fidgeting nervously behind her fast march.

"My Lady, are you sure you're not going to take a carriage?" He asked as he tried to keep up with her pace.

"Certainly not!" Rhiannon answered harshly, "It would take a week for me to get there by carriage, if not longer"

"But, the dangers of a woman of your status travelling-"

"I have _four_ guards with me, the Brecilian Passage will be no trouble at all, Seneschal Noel" Rhiannon's voice was filled with irritation over the pampering Seneschal following her, "Besides, the Teyrn wrote _with haste_ , a carriage is _not_ travelling with haste, ser"

"No, my Lady Teyrna", the Seneschal answered as Rhiannon mounted her horse and took the reins from the stable master holding her horse for her. "Maker keep you safe on your journey, Teyrna Mac Tir"

Rhiannon nodded to the Seneschal and then quickly drove her heals into the horse sides and urged it into a gallop towards the forest passage.


	27. 23 Traveling

Chapter 23 – Traveling

30th Kingsway, 9:26

South Reach

Rhiannon and her guards had spent two nights camping out in the wilds of the Brecilian Forests when they finally arrived at the Arling of South Reach. They had been spared from wild animals attacking them and only run into one band of bandits, which the guards fought off quickly. The roads between Gwaren and the Bannorn were desolate and consisted mainly of the woodlands of the Brecilian Passage. The guards were kind to her, but they were all brutes, except for one, it was the guard who had fought her on the training field when she was trying to prove a point to Loghain. He was surprisingly chatty when they made camp, but his cooking was awful and it wasn't improved by the fact that they had brought very little foodstuff with them. During the days they drove their horses so hard, Rhiannon thought they would probably die in the mud before they reached Highever, but the horses was sturdy and surprisingly fast for large fereldan war horses.

When they arrived at South Reach, Rhiannon learned that the news of her father had reached his old friend Arl Leonas Bryland, the Arl of South Reach. Fortunately, his daughter, Habren, was in Denerim attending Salons, possibly trying to convince some poor sod to marry her, the retched wench. Arl Leonas welcomed her and her guards and put them up in his castle for the night and had them well feed and restocked for the rest of their journey to Highever. Rhiannon happily received a warm bath, the autumn cold had come up from the ocean, reaching all over Ferelden and it was a cold that drove itself into Rhiannon's bones. After more or less riding for two day's straight and only sleeping a few hours to let the horses rest, her body was sore.

As she lay in the warm bath, she stroked her stomach and she could make out a bump, growing just under her navel. Her heart let out an aching cry within her at the thought of her child never getting to meet its grandfather, her kind father. Why would someone want her father killed? He was a nice and honest man and never dabbled in bad business. It was obvious it was directed at the Cousland family, as he was the head of them and their family was, second to the royal family, the most powerful family in Ferelden. Only Loghain had more power than her father, personally, being the Kings advisor as well as a Teyrn and Commander of the Royal forces. Rhiannon knew there had been plenty of _orlesian_ assassination attempts on her husband and those she understood – Loghain was a dangerous man in their eyes and he had humiliated their entire empire by putting the head of the usurper Meghren on a pike outside the Denerim Palace. But her father, he was only a lieutenant, commanding his own Highever forces during the Rebellion. He'd never been a threat to Orlais; he had even been accused of being too lenient towards them at times, when it came to trading treaties between Highever and Jader. Rhiannon couldn't imagine who could want to kill him; she couldn't even in the deepest parts of her mind find a motive that could explain what had happened.

It was pure and simple exhaustion that made Rhiannon sleep that night, in the comforts of one of Arl Leonas guest beds, she had just needed to lie down and cover herself with the warm beddings and pelts and then she'd drifted off into blissful sleep. 

* * *

She awoke startled early in the morning by a hard knock on her door; one of the brutish guards hammered her door and told her they were ready to leave. Even though Rhiannon wanted nothing more than to curl back down into the warm sheets of the bed, she _had_ to get to her father. She _had_ to get to the security of her husbands arms. She _had_ to get to her mother, to comfort her. It was her duty as their daughter to take care of them when they needed it the most, as they had taken care of her. And she would _not_ have her father die without being able to hold his hands before he drifted into the fade for the last time.

She got dressed as fast as she could, into a new tunic and new socks but wore the same trousers and coat, as well as her cape. She braided her hair in a large simple orlesian braid, she didn't care she was supposed to have her hair pulled up as a married Teyrna. Who really cared, if ones loved one was dying? She then walked out of the guestroom and down to the hall of the castle, were she met Arl Leonas, he sent for a kitchen girl to bring her some broth before she left with her guards.

Arl Leonas told her he prayed for Bryce and insisted she'd let him know if they ever needed anything. He would have gladly travelled to Highever with her, he said, but there had been disputes between the farmers of South Reach and Drakon River that were on the edge of turning into uprisings if it wasn't handled.

On their way north over the Bannorn towards the Coastland, they were met by the open fields and far to the west they could see the tips of the mountains over the River Dane, the Bannorn was so flat and open, it was hard to find a grove to hide in or to camp. They eventually happened upon a group of Gardas that patrolled the Bannorn and decided to camp with them for the night.

Rhiannon shared a tent with the guard that was more of the chatty type, his name was Aldrin and he had grown up in Gwaren Village. She felt more secure with his company than the other three guards escorting her to Highever and with the Gardas; she wanted to keep as close to him as possible. Not that the Gardas were threatening or anything of the kind, but they were a group of men and her own guards were all men and she was alone as a woman. A young and alone woman. Her title didn't matter much if she was assaulted by a group of ten men and even though the Gardas was working for the Crown, they were about as corrupt as anyone else and Rhiannon didn't trust them not to take advantage. They had of course, realised she was somewhat important since she travelled with four heavily armed guards, carrying the Teyrnir of Gwaren's crest on their shields.

She sat down beside Aldrin close to the campfire and one of her guards handed her a wooden bowl of what looked like cabbage soup with stale bread broken into pieces floating around in the watery broth. Soldier's food, indeed.

"Thank you" Rhiannon smiled to her guard and he nodded to her with a gruff noise as he went back to his own bowl of floating cabbage.

"If you try really hard, you might be able to convince your taste buds to like it", Aldrin smirked towards her with his large light brown eyes. The brown tone of his eyes gave them a soft kindness that gave her a feeling of security whenever she looked into them. Aldrin was a tall and quite slim young man, but with the body of a warrior and calloused hands. He had slept on a bedroll beside her since their first night, as she had asked since it made her feel more secure, while at least one of the other guards stayed up and kept watch. The guards slept in shifts, but let Rhiannon sleep until it was time to continue traveling, if she wanted to. But she liked having Aldrin near her; he was nice and had quickly started joking with her like she was anyone, and not just his Teyrna. They had talked much about the difference between the Highlands and the Lowlands, since Rhiannon was a highlander and he a lowlander. It seemed they had very much in common, even though he was the son of a boat builder who had joined the armed forces since they discovered he was good with a sword. He had long red-brown hair, much like Fergus', that he tied up behind his head into a knot to keep it from falling into his face under his helmet and his face had a sharp complexion, not unlike Loghain's, but softer with a darker shade to his skin and freckles. He looked like the archetype of a handsome fereldan young man. She had joked with him, that the village girls must follow him around constantly, since he was very handsome, and he had simply smirked at her and gone back to drinking his ale.

Rhiannon stirred her soup with a spoon, feeling slightly nauseated from her pregnancy and from the fact that the soup looked highly unappetizing.

"I might need to drink something strong before I try this" Rhiannon said and Aldrin reached for a flask of herbal schnapps and gave it to her. She took three large swigs from the bottle and felt the strong liquor burn through her body, making her feel both warmer and lighter and it soothed her nausea slightly.

"You best not drink away you hunger, though", Aldrin said and put the bottle beside him again, "Now eat, my Lady", he smiled.

"If you insist, soldier", Rhiannon answered with a somewhat reluctant smile.

The soup was as watery as it looked, and it tasted of nothing more than soaked bread, cabbage, water and salt. Absolutely disgusting, Rhiannon thought, but, she knew she had to eat, especially in her condition and they had one full day of traveling left before they reached Highever.

"So, were' ye goin'?" One of the Gardas asked with his eyes on her and Aldrin.

"Highever", Rhiannon answered casually, looking up from her bowl of soup, "And you?"

"We're heading for West Hill, next", he answered, "Came from Lothering, they's been 'aving trouble with guilds spreadin' down from Orzammar lately, tryin' to get their merchant's under their control"

"I see", Rhiannon said, "Have you been successful in driving them back?"

"Oh aye" the Garda grinned and took a swig of the schnapps, "You's 'aving trouble down in Gwaren with them guilds?"

"No, we've been spared, mostly" Rhiannon said and smiled friendly towards the guard.

"Ah, I can imagine. They's too scared upsetting the Teyrn I suppose, it's still Loghain Mac Tir, no?"

"Yes, he is still Teyrn"

"Nobody want's to upset the Hero of River Dane, not even those sodding dwarves – I'll tell ye tho, they's scared shitless of yer Teyrn", the Garda chuckled with an amused face, "He's got quite the reputation down there, but it's well earned I'd say. Greatest warrior Ferelden's ever seen, aye" Rhiannon smiled and nodded as an answer. "So, yer traveling alone, lass. With well-armoured and armed guards, are ye nobility traveling home from Gwaren? Or are ye a prisoner?" The Garda looked at her with a smug look. "Yer to well-spoken for a prisoner, tho"

"I'm no prisoner, no. Gwaren is my home", Rhiannon answered. The Gardas seemed to be relaxed and didn't give the impression of being hostile since half of them had stripped themselves of their armour and sat shivering under plaids. They didn't give the impression of being bandits either, using their Garda shields as a way of extorting money. "I'm traveling to my family in Highever".

"Huh, I see" the Garda answered and shifted his position. "Didn't know they's had much nobility left in Gwaren, since the Teyrn spends his' time in the capital"

"Well, I recently moved to Gwaren from Highever", Rhiannon said and before she could continue, Aldrin broke in.

"You're talking to the Teyrna of Gwaren, friend"

"Pardon me manners, yer' Ladyship. You've could'a told me sooner, lest I make a fool of me'self", the Garda smiled and bowed to her without standing up.

"There's no need for apologies, I assure you" Rhiannon said and smiled softly. Aldrin shifted his seat slightly to be able to access his sword easier, were something to happen.

"Yer very kind, yer Ladyship" the Garda smiled and reached out towards her with the bottle of schnapps, "We commoner's only share our drinks with friends, so ere's a symbolical token of me good an' apologetic intentions, mistress"

"Thank you", Rhiannon took the bottle and had a swig and then gave it to Aldrin who handed it back to the Garda.

When it was time to get a few hours of sleep, Aldrin insisted of sitting guard outside Rhiannon's tent, just in case, together with the other one of her guards who had the first nightshift. Rhiannon thought he was being ridiculous, but if he wanted to sit out in the cold and lose sleep over suspicion, that was his own choice. Nothing happened, of course and Rhiannon awoke early the next morning by her own accord and peaked out of her tent. The Gardas were still sleeping, except for one of their night-guards and one of her own guards who sat with him by the fire. Just outside her tent sat Aldrin, sleeping, wrapped in a plaid with full armour under it.

"God morning", Rhiannon sniggered as she nudged Aldrin's shoulder. He woke up with a start and looked up at her. "You're a terrible guard dog, falling asleep during duty", she smirked at him.

"Heh, so it seems, my Lady", Aldrin gasped and smiled with surprised but sleepy eyes.

"I am, however glad you were able to get some sleep out here, on the cold ground" Rhiannon said and padded his shoulder. "Well, I need to relieve myself. Do I need a humiliating escort, as usual?"

"I'm afraid so, my Lady" Aldrin sighed with a grunt as he came to his full length and smiled at her, "Precautions, you know. But, I promise I wont look at the Ladyship's _private_ parts"

"You wouldn't dare", Rhiannon snorted with a smile and walked towards a small grove of trees and bushes. Aldrin followed her and stopped a few feet behind her and turned his back as she emptied her bladder behind one of the bushes. "This really is humiliating, you know" Rhiannon said as she crouched down.

"Of course it is, my Lady" Aldrin answered in a cheeky voice.

"Why don't I have to follow you lot about when you relieve yourselves?"

"Why would you even _want_ to?" Aldrin laughed and instinctively turned his head a little.

"Should _I_ be the only one being humiliated?" Rhiannon asked in a pretend annoyed voice.

"Is it really _that_ humiliating? It's one of the most natural things there is, my Lady. Everyone has to do it, after all"

"Well, it's a bit easier for men, is it not? You just unbutton your trousers and have a go. Us _ladies_ , must crouch down, pull up our skirts or pull down our trousers. It's really quite the effort, I dare say" Rhiannon said as she stood up and tied the laces of her trousers and corrected her tunic.

"But just because it's more of an effort for you, doesn't make it more humiliating, does it?" Aldrin grinned and Rhiannon walked up beside him.

"You don't have to sit there with your arse exposed, you dimwit" Rhiannon hissed in a joking manner and looked up at Aldrin, "And give me that plaid, I'm freezing". Aldrin laughed again and gave her his plaid as they walked back to the camp to pack up and continue to Highever. 

* * *

One night later, they arrived in Highever during the early afternoon and some weight inside Rhiannon dropped as she saw the Highever castle tower up before the large Highland mountains. As Aldrin saw the majestic castle and the mountains he gasped, since he'd told Rhiannon he'd never been further north than Denerim before. When they rode through the village of Highever in a slower pace, he chatted on about how vastly different it was, from what he had imagined and how surprised he was that the village was so _large_. He thought it was almost as large as Denerim, which it wasn't of course. Highever village was large for a village, indeed, but only about a fifth the size of Denerim.

When they rode though the castle gates, Fergus and Loghain came out to meet them and Rhiannon more or less slid down into Loghain's arms from the saddle, clinging to his shoulders as he held her up and hugged her around her waist. The relief of being in her husband's arms again made her body force up a sob as she pressed her face into his neck. Loghain hugged her tighter and kissed her cheek as he held her.

"It's all right, Rhiannon. He's getting better, they believe he's out of the woods", Loghain whispered to her with his deep hushed voice.

"Who would even _dare_ to do this?" Rhiannon hissed into Loghain's neck.

"I'm not sure, but I have my suspicions", Loghain answered dryly and put her down on the ground, stroking her cheek.

"It's good to have you here, sister", Fergus said and hugged Rhiannon, "Mother's in the study and father is resting in their room. He has woken up several times now, confused, of course, but the healing mages says he's going to survive"

"How did this even happen?" Rhiannon asked with a despondent look on her face.

"We'll talk about it when we get inside", Loghain said and put his hand on her shoulder, "Come now".

Rhiannon walked into her childhood home with Fergus and Loghain behind her, and she strapped off her cape and gave it to Loghain as she walked into the study were Eleanor sat in the sofa by the fire, cradling Oren. Oren seemed luckily unaware of the entire situation, becoming one year old in ten days. Her mother looked up at Rhiannon with tired but surprised eyes.

"Rhiannon, Maker's breath, you're here"

"Of course, mother" Rhiannon smiled and sat down beside her mother, leaning in to hug both Eleanor and Oren as he sat in his grandmother's bosom. "How are you holding up?"

"Oh, I don't know" Eleanor said with a quiet pause, "He's woken up, but he was comatose for almost a week. They don't…Don't know what it has done to his mind-"

"Mother, don't jump to conclusions" Fergus interrupted her, "He might just as well be fine. We just don't know yet, as he hasn't spoken when he's been awake"

That was not a good sign, Rhiannon thought and she felt a large lump in her throat. She could see in Loghain's eyes that he thought the same thing, from where he stood leaned against the doorframe. Rhiannon picked up Oren and sat him in her lap and looked at her mother, her eyes were red-shot and she looked like she'd aged ten years in just over a week.

"Have you been able to sleep, mother?" Rhiannon asked and stroked her mother's arm with her free hand.

"I'm not sure I've rightly tried" Eleanor chuckled bitterly, looking down on her hands.

"Perhaps you should go and have a lie down, yes?" Rhiannon suggested, "Fergus, where's Oriana?"

"Resting, she stayed up with father during the night" Fergus answered, "As did she", he nodded to Eleanor.

"Well then, mother dear, go get some rest. I'll look after Oren in the meantime, you're no use to anyone walking around like a ghost" Rhiannon tried to smile gently to her mother.

"I don't know if I-"

"I'm not arguing about this, mother" Rhiannon pierced her eyes into her mother as she clasped her arm, "Go rest, just for a little bit. Fergus, show her up will you"

"Yes. Come, mother. You're absolutely exhausted", Fergus said and led Eleanor up the stairs to her and Bryce's private quarters.

Loghain sighed as he shifted and moved to sit down beside Rhiannon in the sofa. His eyes fell on Oren and he tousled the lads dark curls with his large hand as he leaned back and stretched his neck to his sides.

"Now, would you _please_ tell me what happened?" Rhiannon looked at her husband beside her. He rubbed his forehead and pulled his hands down over his face as he sighed.

"He was attacked walking back to the castle from the village" Loghain said and focused his eyes on her. Oren sat in her lap and made grunting noises, sucking his fingers and trying to bend Rhiannon's fingers from his body, to put them in his mouth as well.

"In the middle of the day?" Rhiannon asked with surprised eyes.

"No, during the evening. There had been a strife between two merchants and he was called down to solve it"

"And he went without guards?" Rhiannon asked, "Of course he did, it's Highever. But still, if there was a row in the village, he should have brought guards from the castle"

"There was already guards in control of the situation down in the village, and Garda" Loghain said, "They stayed behind as he walked back to the castle, both the guards and Garda"

"Yes, of course. They needed to make sure it didn't escalate again", Rhiannon said and Loghain nodded. "But who found him?"

"The castle guards guarding the gates saw him being struck by arrows as he walked back to the castle and they ran to him, but the assailants had already ridden away by the time they got to him"

"Archers" Rhiannon mumbled.

"Yes" Loghain nodded.

"Dalish?"

"No, we don't think so. There's no clan close by. The only clan we know of in Ferelden right now is in the Brecilian Forest. And the arrows weren't of dalish making"

"And they seldom have horses" Rhiannon nodded. "But they must have been a few of them, how many arrows pieced him?"

"Seven" Loghain answered in a dry, low voice.

"Seven?!" Rhiannon gasped, "Maker's breath"

"Seven, well aimed arrows. They wanted him to die", Loghain said and held his hand over his forehead. "He's lucky he didn't bleed out on the spot. Your castle mage is truly a gift"

Rhiannon sighed as she leaned down against the backrest of the sofa and turned Oren to face her and pressed him up over her shoulder and against her chest. She could feel him drool on her and quickly grab her braid, starting to pull it, but it didn't matter. Rhiannon couldn't believe what Loghain had just told her. _Seven_ arrows, well aimed. If anyone knew well-aimed arrows, it was Loghain. He was still a very good archer, even though he seldom practiced it these days. But he had been the commander of an elite unit of archers during the Rebellion, they took West Hill almost on their own before Maric's forces arrived to support them.

"Andraste's arse" Rhiannon sighed and turned to look at Loghain, he looked back at her, twisting his lips.

"My Lady", a servant appeared in the doorframe to the study, "We've left your thing's in your old room, where the Teyrn is staying"

"Thank you", Rhiannon nodded.

"Would you like anything else? Have you eaten?" The servant asked.

"Send up some food to my chambers and prepare a bath, if you would be so kind" Rhiannon answered.

"Of course, my Lady", the servant nodded and walked away.

"Perhaps I should go up and see father" Rhiannon sighed, "Could you take Oren?"

"Of course" Loghain answered and brought Oren to sit on his arm, leaned against his chest. Oren immediately found one of Loghain's long braids and started tugging it, seemingly trying to eat it. "You're trying to fit anything in your mouth right now, aren't you?" Loghain looked at Oren and pulled his braid behind his ear.

Rhiannon smiled softly and rose to walk up to her father, Loghain followed her up and stood in a corner of the room as Rhiannon sat down on the bed beside her father. He looked pale and had grown thin, probably for not eating anything solid in over a week. If he hadn't woken up, he would surely have starved to death if the injuries hadn't killed him first. But his chest moved up and down in a regular pace and Rhiannon took his hand and smiled at him.

"Hello father", she said and stroked her fathers warm hand, "You look terrible, and you gave me quite the scare, you know"

Of course, Bryce didn't answer, he seemed to be sound asleep, but it gladdened her that he had been waking up from time to time. He had been eating a little, if only broth and light soups, but it was _something_. She could see at least two wounds on his body, even though he wore a shift and was covered with a plaid. One just next to his collarbone and another on his shoulder, dangerously close to his throat. An inch closer and he would have been dead.

Fergus walked in and sat down in an armchair next to their father, he sighed and leaned back. Rhiannon looked at him and he looked back, but they didn't say anything at first. Simply exchanged looks and Rhiannon turned to look at her father again. He looked so small and old, lying there in the bed. He was still a bit feverish from his wounds, but it looked as if they healed well, the bandages weren't bloody or yellowed.

"Loghain told me what happened", Rhiannon said quietly. "It doesn't make any sense"

"No, it doesn't", Fergus said and shook his head.

"And it couldn't be orlesians?" Rhiannon asked.

"I doubt it", Loghain said as he put Oren down in Fergus' lap. "Not that they doesn't use bows, but Bryce weren't in any conflict with them, as far as we know", he crossed his arms over his chest as he stood between Rhiannon and Fergus, looking down on Bryce in the bed. "And Anora's spies in Orlais don't know anything"

"She's checked with them?" Rhiannon asked.

"Of course. Someone's tried to assassinate one of the realms Teyrns, wars have started over less" Loghain said with a stern voice.

Rhiannon stayed with Bryce for a while longer before she went into her and Loghain's chamber and got out of her sweaty and dirty clothes. A servant had put a new shift and a linen dress on the bed for her to wear after she'd taken her bath. She sank down in the warm water slowly; it felt too hot at first, mostly because she felt so cold to begin with. She undid her braid and let her hair fall down behind he tub as she closed her eyes and inhaled the pungent oils in the water. She closed her hand over her stomach, thinking she could connect with the small thing in there if she touched the place were it laid, growing a little bit with every day.

"You're starting to show", Loghain crouched down beside her and stroked her hair as she opened her eyes and looked at him.

"It looks like I ate a very heavy meal" Rhiannon said and smiled towards Loghain.

"Perhaps", he said and kissed her lips softly. "But you do look different, you know"

"Do I?" Rhiannon answered, "How?"

"You look softer, somehow", Loghain kissed her again as he reached down into the water and grabbed one of her breasts, "Swollen bosoms"

"I look fatter, that's what you're saying", Rhiannon pulled from him with a smile.

"Softer" Loghain corrected her, "And gorgeous, like a nymph floating in the water"

"I've missed you" Rhiannon said and reached out for his neck.

"I've missed you as well" Loghain leaned in against her again and kissed her deeply, "I might have to have you. That's rather insensitive, is it not?"

"A little bit" Rhiannon answered, "But I may be just as insensitive right now"

"I'll lock the door", Loghain rose from his crouching position while Rhiannon stepped out of her the tub and wrapped her wet body in a towel.

It didn't take long, however, for Loghain to have removed the towel and guided her to their bed. As Rhiannon felt the bed against her shins, she sat down and unbuttoned Loghain's trousers, letting him out and stroking him. He was already hard and she could feel the velvety soft skin of his shaft slide back and forth as she stroked him. She leaned in and kissed the top of him with her full lips, carefully opening her mouth and letting him inside her. She could feel his hands around her neck, grabbing her hair as he groaned softly and pushed himself a bit further inside her mouth. She thought that it would be _bad_ if her teeth scraped against him, so she relaxed her jaw further and stroked him while he slowly pushed his tip in and out of her lips. She then tasted him with her tongue, and he gasped and strengthened his hold of her hair.

After a while, taking him in her mouth, Loghain grew impatient and pushed her down on the bed and turned her on her stomach. He threw himself over her and almost violently entered her wet, throbbing sex and she had to contain herself not to moan too loudly. He pushed himself in and out of her in a fast pace hand held her head up by her hair and she could hear him snarl behind her, as he pushed harder and she was happy she wasn't standing up, because her legs would have given in from the pure pleasure of his violent assault on her. His nails dug in to her hip and almost broke her skin and her scalp hurt from his harsh grip on her hair, but it only added to the pleasure he gave her and after a while, she could feel him freeze and snarl, as he released himself inside her.

He lay down beside her as she shifted to lie on her side and he reached to kiss her. His kisses were gentle and slow, as he was still catching his breath and Rhiannon sniggered quietly. Loghain smiled a little and kissed her again and she stroked his jawline and traced his neck down to his chest.

"I needed that", she said, smiling.

"So did I", Loghain exhaled, "First Denerim and then _this_ "

"I know" Rhiannon said, "I'm glad that you're here. You could have just stayed in Denerim"

"Yes" Loghain paused, "But I figured you'd need me"

"I do" Rhiannon buried her hand in his hair, "I really do need you. Always"


	28. 24 A man you don't meet every day

Chapter 24 – A man you don't meet every day

9th Harvestmere, 9:26

Highever

" _My name is Jock Stewart, I'm a canny gaun man and a roving young fellow, I have been. So be easy and free, when you're drinkin wi' me. I'm a man you don't meet every day_ ", Loghain stood in the stable, brushing his horse and preparing for his ride back to Denerim when the sun rose. A few boxes down a stable boy sang a song he hadn't heard in years, perhaps not since the Rebellion, when they gathered around a fire in the camps and drank whatever liquor they could get their hands on. His father used to sing the song when he got drunk, when Loghain was a young lad.

" _I have acres of land, I have men at command – I have always a silver to spare. Now, I took out my dirk, my dog I did kill, all down by the River Hafter. I'm a piper by trade and a roving young blade and many a tune I do play. Come fill up your glasses of brandy and wine, and whatever the cost, I will pay. So be easy and free, when you're drinkin wi' me. I'm a man you don't meet every day_ "

Loghain's chest tightened when he heard the boy's singing and he was overwhelmed with memories from his childhood and the rebellion. Thoughts he spent so much time trying to push away, to _not_ remember. How was it possible for so many memories to be tied up in a simple folk song? It was a popular enough song and it was being sung in taverns all over Ferelden, but he hadn't heard it in years. He had gotten a similar feeling inside him during Rhiannon's and his wedding feast, when the bards sang of the foggy dew, illustrating the battle of River Dane and some of the battles of Gwaren. He could never push those memories away, not really, he knew this. He was as so many other men and women, marked by the wars he had fought in, by the losses of the men he had commanded. He had lit so many pyres in his life; he had lost count during his first six months of the Rebellion. He stopped counting after that and during the end of the Rebellion, just before their siege of Denerim; he lit mass-pyres of what seemed to be whole companies. West Hill was one of those places were he had to burn hundreds of Fereldan men and women, sending them to the Maker, all of them too early. He had found dead children among the corpses and he had to swallow his devastation and dread, marching on and leading his forces further, pushing the enemy back.

Loghain couldn't, wouldn't and most of all, didn't dare to face those memories enough for him to learn how to handle them. It was many years since he'd woken up screaming from nightmares, where he found himself in the middle of a battlefield, almost being crushed by the splinters from ballistae and having his body torn apart by sharp orlesian swords. He would get the sensation of being outside his own body, that he had gotten when he was in the middle of a battle, charging at anything coming near him, staring dimly out over the massacred bodies around him. He would scream, in his dream just as he had screamed when he actually stood out on the field. Screamed from the very bottom of his own soul in pain, in rage and for the bleeding ground of the motherland he loved so deeply. It was a cry for battle made as a promise between him and Andraste herself, swearing to protect this land that had born him with his body as its shield. But he saw her bleed, his land was bleeding out beneath his feet with the blood from fereldan men and women lying slaughtered all around him.

Loghain exhaled as he almost fell back from where he stood at side of his horse, not moving for what probably had been several moments. His chest ached and he could feel Maker damn _tears_ trying to press their way up through his eyes. His head felt like it was about to explode or implode, he couldn't tell, the pain was too intensive. He tried to tear of the linen scarf he had wrapped around his neck, but the sodding knot wouldn't let go and he fell back against the wooden wall of the stable-box he stood in. He slowly sank down and crouched, leaning forward, trying to breathe with his head between his knees. _Andraste's arse_ , what was happening to him? When his breathing had soothed itself slightly he could dry the sweat of his forehead and he tried to focus his eyes on something in front off him. His sight had gone dim and blurry and he could almost hear something that sounded like a voice coming from his side.

"My Lord, are you all right?"

"My Lord?"

"Teyrn Mac Tir, can you hear me?"

He looked up against the voice and saw something flinch across from him.

"My Lord?"

"Yes?" Loghain hissed, as he still had to force air down his lungs. It was the singing stable boy, asking him something.

"Are you all right, my Lord? Do you want me to get someone from the castle?"

Loghain's sight was starting to clear and he saw the young man standing in the slightly opened gate of the stable-box Loghain sat crouching in. The horse standing beside him swung its tale slightly and it swept over Loghain's thighs.

"No", Loghain gasped, "Leave me"

He was able to stand up and leaned back towards the wall and rubbed his temples and his forehead. He felt like he was boiling and freezing at the same time, and he realized he was nauseous. The heavy feeling that ached in his chest, quickly turned into his breakfast forcing itself up his throat and he tried to breathe it down, but it wouldn't give in. Eventually he realized he needed to rush out and give in to the pushing feeling in his throat and the whirling of his guts. _Maker's balls_.

"Maker's breath, Loghain!"

Loghain would recognize that voice everywhere. Maker, why do you let her see me like this? Haven't you punished me enough for one lifetime? Why did you have to let her wake up early this very morning? She usually sleeps way past sunup, but of all the sodding mornings. He felt his body heave as he retched and he leaned over a fence just outside the stable and emptied his stomach. He could feel Rhiannon's hands on his back, reaching to pull away his hair from his face as he threw up.

" _Don't_ touch me", he hissed at his wife and she quickly recoiled as he stood leaning over the fence, just breathing, praying that nothing more would push its way up his throat. The bile burned his throat as he coughed and finally could tear off his scarf and dry off his mouth with it.

"Whatever happened?" Rhiannon's voice was upset, "You can't travel to Denerim like this!"

" _Leave_ me be" he said calmly with a low voice.

"Are you serious?" She asked, still sounding upset and shocked, "No. You're coming back to the castle with me"

Loghain didn't answer her, he just breathed and focus on not falling to the ground, trying to stabilize himself holding on to the fence.

"Loghain, _do_ as I say" Rhiannon's voice was determined. "Whatever happened to put you in this state, I don't care, but you're not riding for Denerim today and I will _not_ argue about it"

"Where do you get the notion I am to _obey_ you?" Loghain hissed through his clenched teeth. He sounded mean, he knew that. She didn't deserve him treating her this way; it was beyond unworthy of him to treat his wife as he sometimes did. How could she awaken such rage within him, was it because of her insufferable stubbornness or her determination, he knew not. Perhaps they were too alike in that way, perhaps he was simply too hotheaded. He was a bastard, a vicious bastard.

"Because right know, _I_ know better. I've almost lost my father and I bloody well wont lose my husband!" Rhiannon almost growled as she grabbed him in a surprisingly hard grip and pulled him away from the fence and started dragging him towards the castle. Loghain struggled to stay on his feet, but he forcibly tugged his arm from her grip and she stopped and stared at him with the fiercest eyes he'd ever seen. They made his knees weak and he well to the ground, just barely holding himself up by his arms.

"Maker damn it!" Rhiannon snarled and pulled him up and threw his arm around her shoulder. "I cannot believe this, _both_ Teyrns of the land, not being able to stand on their feet", she scolded as she started walking again, holding him around his waist. "Why do you put me through this, you foolish man?"

When they neared the doors into the castle, two guards caught sight of them and ran to unburden Rhiannon and Loghain was led in to the castle and up the stairs to Rhiannon and his chambers. He heard Eleanor's shocked voice asking Rhiannon what had happened and Rhiannon shouted back to her as she followed the guards up the stairs.

Their bed was still warm as Loghain fell down into it, with his feet still on the floor; he lay down on his side with his head pressed against the pillow.

"One of you, fetch a bucket, at once!" Rhiannon ordered the guards with a stern voice and gesticulated. "I need a servant, _now_!"

Shortly after that he could hear the soft voice of a servant answering Rhiannon and she asked for boiling water and clean cloth. Then he felt hands on his shins, tugging at one of his boots, he could feel how the dagger in his boot was removed and soon were both his boots as well.

"Maker, Loghain" Rhiannon sighed as she lifted his feet up on the bed, "Your teeth are shaking", he felt a cool hand on his forehead, "You have a fever!"

He could feel her sit down beside him in the bed and he thought he said something to her, but she only scolded him again and stroked his hair. Then she somehow jerked his coat off and removed his sword belts and threw a plaid over him.

"You foolish man, you're ill", she mumbled and she tucked him in and he groaned at her voice, it scraped at the insides of his head, "Riding to Denerim in this condition, you're ridiculous, you know that? Only men behave like such complete fools"

A male voice came in and said something to Rhiannon and soon she put something down beside the bed, Loghain tried to squint to see what it was, but his eyes had gone blurry again and the room was dark except for some candles and a fire burning in the fireplace.

"If you need to spew, there's a bucket just by the bed, you only need to lean out", Rhiannon stroked his upper arm through the plaid she'd pulled up to his ears, "I'll be back in a moment, do _not_ try to escape or I'll have your head"

"Yes, mistress", Loghain muttered sarcastically through his teeth. He could hear how Rhiannon sighed and probably rolled her eyes at him as she left their bedroom. 

* * *

"What's all this ruckus?" Rhiannon met Fergus in the hallway outside Loghain's and her chambers, he was still tying the belt of his morning coat, seemingly having rushed out of bed, since he didn't even wear his slippers. "Has something happened with father?"

"No, no. Nothing's happened with father" Rhiannon answered and looked at Fergus, "It's my ridiculous husband trying to ride off to Denerim while he can hardly stand on his legs and puking his guts out over a stable fence"

"Oh, nothing serious, I hope?" Fergus expression clamed but he retained a frown of worry.

"I don't know, he has a fever and is shaking. Hopefully it's just food poisoning or something of the like" Rhiannon sighed, "Well, I have to make sure the servants brings him something to drink, if he keeps spewing, he'll need rehydrate himself"

Rhiannon walked down the stairs where she met her mother and before she went to talk to her, she snatched a servant and asked her to bring Loghain cold milk with honey and a jug of fresh cold water. She then walked back to Eleanor and went to sit with her in the study. Another servant came and asked if they wanted sweetened tea with milk and Rhiannon very much wanted sweet tea with milk, as well as some morning biscuits if they had some.

"Maker's breath, I've married a mule", Rhiannon said as she leaned back in her armchair.

"Whatever's the matter, darling?" Eleanor asked with a worried look.

"It seems like food poisoning, I reckon. He must have had something bad for breakfast", Rhiannon sighed and drew her hands over her face. "But he thought it was a good idea riding to Denerim no matter if he could stand or not. I suppose he thought it all good and well if someone just hung him over a saddle and lashed the horse into a gallop in the direction of the capital"

"He's a man of duty" Eleanor smirked half-hearted.

"Well, it's bad enough one of us already walks around throwing up without warning, without him-", Rhiannon paused, she realized what she had just said when she met her mother's widened eyes.

"Are you with child?" Eleanor smiled sincerely for the first time since Rhiannon had arrived in Highever.

"Yes", Rhiannon nodded smiling carefully at her mother.

"So soon after the wedding? How marvellous, my dear girl. Of course, it is still too early to tell for sure I suppose, since you married only two moths ago next week"

"It's not too early, mother" Rhiannon looked at her mother with a serious expression.

"What do you mean?" Eleanor looked confused.

"You _can_ tell"

"I do suppose you look a bit different, that is true. All pregnant women do. Your body changes, for some it happens early"

"The thing is, mother", Rhiannon paused, biting her lower lip, trying to figure out how to phrase what she was about to say. The bump on her stomach was visible, even though the small amount of fat she already had on her belly evened it out somewhat, but soon, it would _actually_ start to show, even through her clothes. "I believe, that it's been about four months"

"Well, that's not possible, my dear", Eleanor chuckled, before her face went into a serious expression and she turned to look at Rhiannon, "My dear girl. It's not Loghain's?"

"Mother!" Rhiannon hissed, "Of course it's _Loghain's_ , what do you take me for?" _The King's mistress? Probably not_ , Rhiannon thought to herself.

"Oh", Eleanor paused, "I see"

"Yes, so, well – congratulations or whatever it is you say" Rhiannon said and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well, you _are_ married now, and I did actually suspect something like that was happening before you got married, when Loghain had returned from sea. But it doesn't matter now does it?" Eleanor smiled and stroked Rhiannon's arm, "You've given me something wonderful to finally be happy about among all this dreadful business, my darling. Another grandchild, and so close to Oren, it is simply marvellous my dear"

"It is, isn't it?" Rhiannon smiled vaguely.

"Though, I think we should consider _not_ mentioning it to your father, when he recovers. Let him figure it out on his own, if he has to" Eleanor chuckled and leaned to hug Rhiannon. 

* * *

Loghain squinted his eyes as he heard voices that was strangely familiar, in the background he could still hear that blasted song that damned stable boy sang. But this time, it wasn't the stable boy crooning it, but several people singing. He could smell a fire burning, no, several fires. A faint smell of burning flesh came up through his nose, mixed with the smell of food cooking over an open fire, spilled ale and piss. A familiar laugh echoed beside him and soon he felt a hand padding his shoulder.

"We did well, didn't we my friend?"

This was not happening, Loghain thought as he slightly panicked in the back of his mind. He looked to his side and saw Maric sitting beside him, drinking ale and smiling, as he always did. Someone in the corner of Loghain's eye did something that made Maric almost stand up and shout out in laughter, his long blond hair almost flying over his shoulders to his back as he stood. Loghain looked down on his hands, they looked different from how they usually looked. Less scarred and less calloused, but with dried blood and dirt under his slightly too long nails, as if he hadn't been able to cut his nails for some time.

Loghain felt an arm reach around his waist from his other side and he turned around and saw Rowan sitting beside him, smiling her soft reassuring smile. Her strawberry red hair falling in thick waves down her shoulders as she arched her head and smiled towards him.

"Please, Loghain, just smile a _little_ , we've made such huge progress and besides, you look lovely when you smile", her large blue eyes stroke an aching chord inside him and he felt himself trying to smile for her. That's all he ever had wanted to do, please _her_. But she couldn't be here, this couldn't _be_ Rowan, something screamed in the back of his head.

He could feel himself shifting nervously when Maric leaned in to him without saying anything, simply looking at the people around them, all gathered around the fire. It seemed as they were sitting in a glen and the high mountains stretched above them and along the glen, he saw several more fires burning, with people sitting around them, singing and celebrating. He noticed the glen opening up further down into a large field, were pyres were still glowing and the silhouettes of things he couldn't properly see laying scattered as far as his eyes could reach. Was it bodies? And the large pyres, Loghain thought, must be theirs. They had been burning their dead, and the other bodies scattered across the field, were _orlesians_.

An elven woman sat down beside Maric and Loghain recognized her at once. Her blonde long hair and special way of moving, as if she was almost floating through the air. _Katriel_. They haven't yet reached West Hill; they're still in some glen close to the Highever Mountains.

"Maric, tell your friend to stop staring at me, he makes me uncomfortable", the elf glanced at him and then turned to Maric.

"Oh don't worry my dear, I'll protect you from Loghain", Maric laughed and tickled the elf beside him as he kissed her. Loghain felt Rowan move closer to him, curl up against him and lean her head against his shoulder. He watched her, as the others sang. That _blasted_ song. 

* * *

Why was he making such noises? A servant had called on Rhiannon to look in on Loghain, as he had shouted. When the servant had come to him, he had been asleep, tossing about in his bed and grunting and whining like he was in pain. The servant hadn't known what to do, since the man was slightly intimidating, especially for an elf of smaller statue as the said servant. How could he become _this_ effected by simple food poisoning? The servants had found that the butter had gone bad, that's probably what had caused this. Rhiannon had tried to calm her husband down as she sat on the bedside, but he'd almost thrown her off the bed in a violent toss. Rhiannon had to clime onto the bed and hold his hands down; somewhat afraid he would hurt himself if she didn't manage to wake him.

"Loghain!" Rhiannon shouted as she tugged at him. He opened his eyes and looked straight at her, his eyes filled with pain and tears. She had never seen him in a state even close to that before and she was filled with shock and dread. What was happening to him? "Are you all right my love?" She asked and stroked his wrists as she held him down, "Do you need anything?"

"Rhiannon?" He looked completely confused and in a start he flew up and pushed her off of him and leaned out over the bucket beside the bed, retching and spewing. Rhiannon leaned over him to hold his hair back and this time he didn't scold her. She reached for a cloth for him to wipe his mouth with when he was done and she got out of the bed, pouring a mug of water for him.

"Drink" and he complied with shaking hands.

"Maker, I think I'm dying", Loghain groaned and curled up on his side in the bed after he'd given Rhiannon the mug.

"I think not", Rhiannon said and sat down beside him, "You have food poisoning"

Loghain groaned and heaved as he lay there, clasping his arms around himself, looking pale and sweaty with eyes filled with fear mixed with pain.

"You need to drink as much water as you can and try to sleep if off" Rhiannon said and pulled the plaid over him again as his teeth had started to shake again. She padded him on the shoulder and he flinched and snarled as if in reply to her touch, why, she couldn't understand, but this was _not_ the time to confront him about it.

She picked up the bucket and left, calling for a servant to bring a new bucket in and set it beside Loghain by the bed, as she went to empty this one. _Maker_. 

* * *

He sat in front of his mother; she was smiling towards him with her raven hair braided up over her head. They were having dinner and his father was in good spirits, rather drunk, if Loghain wasn't mistaken. His father made a joke and his mother laughed and leaned against his father's shoulder. He could smell that special smell only ones childhood home has, for Loghain; it was burning firewood, grass and earthiness. He could taste his mothers stew when he guided the spoon in his hand to his mouth, his body felt young and he had a strong sense of having experienced this night before. It was one of those happy nights, when they were gathered as a family, possibly during autumn since his mother had done her stew. It must have been a year with a good harvest and his father and himself had hunted for boar. He could taste the earthy fatness of the meat in the stew and it's thick rich gravy.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door; a hard authoritarian knock and his mother froze by the table with a scared look in her light blue eyes. His father went to open the door with his hand on the pummel of his dirk. He could feel a strong sense of something suddenly being _very_ wrong. That this is not how it was supposed to be, it was not suppose to happen this way.

Soldiers stormed into their small house with drawn swords and his father shouted, but the soldiers ignored him. Loghain tried to scream, but they didn't hear him. He tried to kick at a soldier that closed in on him and then he could see that they had beaten his father bloody and gotten a hold of his mother. She was screaming and the soldiers laughed. _They laughed_ , as they forced them all outside in front of the house. Loghain saw more soldiers and they spoke to them in that horrid grating language he couldn't understand a word of. They threw his mother on the ground and one of the guards said something to her and chuckled as he started to unbuckle his belt. Loghain's father screamed and tried to force himself lose from the grip of the two soldiers holding him, but instead they pummelled him in the back of his head and he fell unconsciously on the ground. Loghain tried to scream and fight the soldiers holding him, but they pushed him to his knees as he watched a soldier hit his mother with the back of his gauntleted hand, he screamed as his mother fell back onto the ground. 

* * *

Rhiannon heard his screams and panicked. She ran up the stairs as fast as she could and Fergus met her coming out from his study, looking startled and shocked from the screams emerging from Loghain's and her chambers. They both darted in to the bedchamber and found Loghain seemingly asleep, shaking and gritting his teeth.

"Leave" Rhiannon told Fergus, "You should not be in here"

"Are you sure you'll be able to handle it?" Fergus asked her with a hint of desperation in his voice.

"No, but you can't be in here if he wakes up, he'll never forgive me" Rhiannon answered and she could see in Fergus' eyes that he understood. Loghain was proud, he was a strong and proud man and now he was at his weakest. Rhiannon knew him and she knew he didn't even want _her_ to see him like this. But he really did not have a choice in the matter; she was his wife and the only one he _might_ allow to come near him right now.

Rhiannon crawled onto the bed as she had done before, trying to tug at him to wake him up from whatever horrid nightmare he was having. Food poisoning and the fever that came with it usually did that, it gave you retched nightmares and Loghain seemed to answer violently to the ones he was having. When she got close to him, she saw tears escaping his eyes and she tried her best to stroke them away. He was breathing heavily and when he opened his eyes after she had tugged him a bit more and called his name out, he moaned horribly. It was such a dreadful sound it tore through her like a blunt knife being shoved into her heart and twisted it beyond reason.

She pushed herself up against the backrest and pulled Loghain up into her arms, he was limp. His whole body felt limp and just full of dread. He didn't say anything, just lay there against her, breathing, still quite heavily as she stroked his now damp and oily hair. He was sweating a lot and his skin was still very pale and greyish, his lips almost white. But he didn't throw up this time. Perhaps the worst was finally over, it was after all, late afternoon.

Rhiannon took his hand and put it against her stomach and he let out a gasp against her chest as he pulled himself closer to her, circling his thumb over her pouting belly.

"It's all right, my love", Rhiannon said softly as she stroked his thick raven hair back.


	29. 25 The pain of being indestructible

Chapter 25 – The pain of being indestructible

27th Drakonis, 9:27

Gwaren

Rhiannon's back was aching, her feet and ankles were horribly swollen and she had trouble with even the most trivial movements as she wobbled, yes _wobbled_ around the Gwaren castle in her loose and comfortable thick linen dress and fur-lined knitted coat. She was huge and her midsection was absurdly enormous and heavy, she felt as if she had gained 200 pounds in just the last two months and according to the mage midwife who had arrived to Gwaren from Denerim a month back, the birth was due any day now.

Loghain had returned from Denerim just a week back, but he had been in a retched mood and they had hardly spoken to each other and kept separate bedrooms, since Loghain complained of her kicking and snoring violently in her condition. He had left for Denerim again from Highever when Teyrn Bryce had recovered enough to start speaking more coherently and could get out of bed and walk. Rhiannon had been escorted back to Gwaren before the real winter's snow started to fall, but when she arrived in Gwaren a week later by carriage, the village and castle had been covered in inches of heavy wet snow. That snow still lay on the ground and over all the roofs and battlements, but it didn't stop Loghain from riding in with his men anticipating the birth. He had promised Rhiannon to be with her when it was time and even though the political situation in Denerim and Cailan's unpredictable personality required Loghain's presence, he had ridden home to Rhiannon.

Cailan had sent her some letters during the winter, when Loghain were in the capital and Rhiannon alone and pregnant in Gwaren. Cailan's letters became more and more erratic and it was clear his was very frustrated about his whole situation. Anora nagged him, as she should – of course, the stirrings after Teyrn Couslands near death left the country in confusion and demanded blood. And then there was the fact that Rhiannon was in Gwaren – with child – not warming his bedchamber or comforting him. If Cailan's mood was unpredictable and erratic, Loghain's mood could only be described as _foul_. He was obviously stressed and spent most of his time bent over his desk handling correspondence from the crown and the army, or scolding messengers who poured in by the numbers everyday – riding with haste in the deep snow mostly between Gwaren and Denerim, but also Highever, Redcliffe and Amaranthine.

The attempt on Teyrn Bryce had left shockwaves in Denerim and had caused uprisings in several large fereldan cities, accusing orlesians living in Ferelden for being traitors. There had been lynchings and public beatings and torture in Highever, Denerim, Amaranthine city and Redcliffe, which forced the royal army to increase its presence all over Ferelden. This was not a good time for Rhiannon and Loghain to expect a child, but they could hardly have foreseen it nine months ago and Loghain kept his promise to Rhiannon, even though it was obvious he was needed in Denerim. They still hadn't learned from who or where the threat and attempt had come, Rhiannon knew her husband had done everything in his power and still did, to get to the source of it all. It seemed somehow, to be something positive in the most morbid and horrible way, because it took his thoughts away from Maric's disappearance and his obvious frustration over Cailan. Her father had almost died and Rhiannon felt guilt over thinking the way she did, but she was happy that Loghain had been able to concentrate on something else. What she wasn't happy about was the mood he brought with him frim Denerim.

She had spent the last four months alone in Gwaren, running the Teyrnir while Loghain worked in Denerim, but as he'd been home the last week, she still slept alone, ate alone and spent most of her time alone. Perhaps she was no longer attractive to him, she couldn't blame him, in her state. She looked like a beached whale when she lay on the bed and Loghain had tried to spend one night with her, but apparently she had almost assaulted him in her sleep with kicking and sharp knuckles. He had since then, retired to his own smaller, but private quarters on the same floor as their joint quarters in which Rhiannon slept. She mourned her lost attractiveness but tried to rationalize it through duty, it was her duty to give Loghain heirs and her duty was more important than a flat stomach with tight skin, free from large scars. She dreaded returning to Denerim, but she knew she had to, at some point. After this whole ordeal, there was no doubt Cailan would set her aside – her body had now been destroyed. That was something she did not realize when she first fell with child, the child tearing her body to such complete impossibility of recognition. Her husband did not want her and her lover certainly would not, either. _Blasted men_.

Rhiannon walked slowly along the long corridor of their quarters and touched the cold stonewalls with one of her hands, careful in case she would be surprised by a hard kick from the one living inside her stomach and lose her balance. She walked towards Loghain's rooms and soon fund him in his study, talking to a royal army messenger, bending over his desk and scribbling something to a piece of parchment while he glanced at a large map of the Bannorn. Rhiannon stood in the door opening and leaned to her side, with her long dark curls hanging lose over her shoulders and a hand over her stomach. Loghain noticed her presence and gave the messenger the parchment and as the messenger bowed and then left, Rhiannon moved inside the room to let him out.

"You shouldn't be up moving around in your condition, Rhiannon", Loghain said with a deep and scolding voice, as he sat down again in front of his desk.

"The midwife says it's good for me to move about a bit, it will help start the contractions", Rhiannon sighed and with difficulty sat down in an armchair beside Loghain's desk, her glance lingering on her husbands long black hair and broad strong shoulders.

Her ankles ached and she tweaked her feet as she stretched her legs out, looking at them. She felt Loghain's eyes on her, he had a sardonic look on his face, but she chose to ignore it and leaned back into the armchair.

"Do you require something?" Loghain asked and focused his stern eyes on her, "Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes", Rhiannon answered with a pause and looked at him, "Except for my husband".

Loghain frowned irritably and exhaled as he turned back to his papers, he then put his hands over his face and leaned onto his elbows. "I am sorry".

Rhiannon watched as he sat with his face in his hands at the table. He looked tired, but she also knew her husband, he had a tendency to escape things that were difficult emotionally, focusing on anything else but that. She could understand it, since he'd told her in a weak moment after his illness in Highever, that Celia and he had lost a child after Anora. She could understand that he was frightened the same would happen again with her and she could also understand his foul mood from all the politics in Denerim and the attempted assassination on her father. But what she couldn't understand was his unwillingness to be near her. It was cowardly of him, but also so typical – he bore such responsibility for the crown and Ferelden – but he could hardly look at his wife, heavy with _his_ child – _hopefully_. It was his duty to help her, but he shied away from it, because it was too _difficult_.

"I am glad you came home, Loghain", Rhiannon said and pierced her eyes on him, "But it doesn't feel as if you _are_ home. You do not dine with me and hardly speak to me. That you don't sleep beside me or touch me, of that I can't blame you considering my condition. But have I truly become such a terrible companion you no longer want my company?"

Loghain looked up from the palms of his hands and stared at her, his eyes shocked but at the same time piercing with some emotion Rhiannon couldn't interpret.

"You must think me a terrible husband", Loghain said and reached out for her hand. "If anything, _I'm_ a terrible companion and it hurts me that you believe me put off by your condition. I simply have so much work and I guess that I am also quite nervous about your _condition_."

"So am I", Rhiannon could feel her eyes tearing up against her will – _blighted tears, hormones and frustration, she's supposed to be angry, not cry_ – but she managed to push the tears back. "That's why I need you and you came, you did. But you're still not _here_ , Loghain"

"Forgive me", Loghain squeezed her hand with both of his large ones and looked intently on her, "I'll arrange to have dinner with you this evening. I've been neglecting you and that's unforgivable"

"You don't have to-" Rhiannon was interrupted.

"I do, really. I admit the whole ordeal scares me; it's cowardly how I've treated you since I got back. So let me join you for dinner tonight"

"Fine, if you insist" Rhiannon tweaked her lips slightly and Loghain reached his hand to her cheek and gave her a strained smile with his eyes. "I need to get back to our bed, I do think you'll need to help me up from this trap of an armchair". 

* * *

Loghain watched his wife as they sat down at the table in the smaller dining room of the castle; she was amazingly beautiful. Her facial features had become slightly fuller due to her vast pregnancy and she was larger in all ways. Her body had always had a soft curviness to it, but she was well muscled and built like a warrior, even though she wasn't tall or very broad-shouldered. Now, her thighs were fleshy and round, her bottom as well and her bosom was swollen and almost enormous and he could see how it stretched out the fabric of her dress. It made his groin ache of longing and he twitched slightly as he sat across her with a goblet of wine in his hand. She noticed his stare and looked back on him with questioning eyes.

"I know you must be rather shocked by my appearance", she said finally and took a sip from her wine. "The last two months crept up on me and I went from a swollen belly to being close to a whale"

Her comment forced Loghain to smirk slightly, which he knew was not something she would appreciate and he felt like a fool. "You're beautiful, Rhiannon".

"Please, Loghain, don't hurt me by lying" Rhiannon hissed and glanced at him, "I know very well what I look like and why you do not wish to share a bed with me. I'm content with it"

"I have work, you are well aware of that" Loghain sighed, "I do not sleep much at all, at the moment"

"I know", Rhiannon answered and she looked down at her plate of food. Her hair was still lose and her skin pale. She had a slightly angry expression, but her eyebrows were knitted in a worried way.

"This business with your father", Loghain looked at her, "We're on the verge of civil war, Rhiannon. The lynchings have caused uprisings in smaller settlements as well and the orlesians have learned of it and threatened to station chevaliers alongside the boarders if we can't protect our fereldan-orlesian subjects from the violence. Some of the smaller Banns in the Bannorn are gathering their armies and have been hostile towards the royal armies stationed in the area"

"Arl Eamon?" Rhiannon looked up and met his eyes. "The Banns of the Bannorn are loyal to him, does he not act?"

"He claims he does"

"Claims? That retched bastard. He's an opportunist, probably thinking that the Bannorn won't eventually turn on him", Rhiannon took her goblet of wine and squeezed the foot in resentment.

"Indeed, he is dangerous. But he's also the kings uncle, he probably consider himself safe"

"Do you think he could have had something to do with the attempt on my father's life?" Rhiannon almost growled in anger as her eyes turned from blue to black.

"Calm down, Rhiannon" Loghain tried to hush her and leaned in towards the table. "Yes, there is indeed a possibility he might have something to do with the attempt on Bryce's life. I've had those suspicions for some time, but I lack proof"

"Cailan would be furious if Eamon had gone behind his back in this manner. Does not Anora have spies in Redcliffe?" Rhiannon seemed to have calmed herself somewhat and took a bite from the spiced meat on her plate.

"No, but we do – now" Loghain couldn't help but to smile slightly, which Rhiannon picked up on fast and nodded with satisfaction towards him. His wife's friendship with the king was another concern he didn't have neither the time nor strength to argue about. And, they had grown up together and even though Cailan seemed a bit _too_ attached to Rhiannon for Loghain's liking, it was good to have his wife _and_ his daughter close to the king.

"Good", she said. "If I find out it was Eamon who tried to kill my father, with the help of that orlesian whore he's married to, he'll be begging for me to send him early to the void where he belongs"

"Indeed he will", Loghain smirked.

When they had finished their meal, Loghain escorted his wife up the stairs to their bedroom and sent for some tea for her. He himself went back to his study and finished off the last letters he had received during the day and drank some brandy. He really did miss the touch of his wife; he had tried to push those feelings away since he got back from Denerim. He didn't want to hurt her, or force her to do anything she did not wish to do. She was heavily with child and he understood that her body hurt in every way and his longings and thoughts of desire were secondary to her comfort. He had tried to sleep next to her, but it simply wasn't possible – how someone so small and otherwise immovable could become so strong and _movable_ when she slept, he had no idea. He had woken up during the night, already bruised and when she lounged her heels into his shins with an almost unnatural force; he decided it was time for him to get up.

But his groin started to ache again at the thought of her swollen breasts and her round arse and thick thighs. She was incredibly beautiful, even though she couldn't see it herself. Normally, she was so small, he'd been afraid to break her in the beginning, not just because she'd been so young, but because she was more than a head shorter and he was a beast of a man in comparison. Her hair had become even longer and when loose, it reached over her bottom with flowing curls waving back and forth as she moved. He wanted nothing more than grab a hold of it and force himself inside her, with her broad round arse pressed against him, feeling her thick, fleshy thighs in his hands as he violated her sweet soft body with his own hardness. She loved it when he claimed her in that harsh way, made her his own and took her after his own will and even though he adored being gentle with her, he could sometimes not help himself. There was something about her that simply drove him insane with desire and a compulsion to own her. She awoke something primal, pagan inside him, something stemming from his childhood and the deep woods of the southern Bannorn. Tales of heathen witches of the wilds, forcing men to ravish them during sexual rituals of blood and old magic, while the flames from the fires danced behind them over the thick trees and stones standing around, watching the sacrifices.

Loghain and Rhiannon had copulated in the woods of Gwaren when they moved there from Denerim and during both her and his own climax, their bodies had locked together and pictures from the witches of his childhood and adolescence had flashed before him while her touch made his skin burn in that magical way he couldn't explain. It had taken him a while, but he realised it was the same magical feeling he'd felt from her, before they were married and she'd sat down with him in the Highever Chantry, during the celebrations of All Soul's Day. But when they copulated in the dark Gwaren woods, the feeling had been much more intense, much more primal and _religious_. Her touch and her climaxing body around his own, together with the loud moans that came out of her, had almost put his skin on fire and forced him to spill inside her, in a climax so intense he could hardly breathe. He felt like he'd almost fallen into a trance, feeling his body pumping inside her, while her eyes had been burning with desire, intensely looking up at him and her full deeply crimson lips slightly parted with her moans. There, she had been a mythological creature – a goddess, sucking him dry and feeding on all the emotions he locked up inside him. He did not ravish _her_ ; she had ravished him in the most fantastical and enjoyable way. Offered him up for the old gods, or the Maker, Loghain had not cared to whom, and simply allowed her sacrifice. He was hers, since a long time before, but it was during that sweaty lovemaking in the woods, he'd become truly hers. Her breast had been stiff and swollen and her pregnant belly pouting from under his large rough body and her curly long hair spread out on the deep green moss around them.

 _I need her_ , Loghain thought as he rose from his chair in his study and started to walk towards their bedroom. When he stepped in and closed the door behind him, he found her piled up in the bed on pillows, reading by candlelight.

"Loghain?" She looked surprised and put her book down on the small table beside her.

Loghain didn't answer her, but shook off his boots and took off his tunic as he moved towards her in the bed. He felt her eyes follow him as he moved closer to her and she flinched when he got into bed. He reached to kiss her and she answered, so he pushed his tongue deeper into her mouth and reached his hands around her neck, kissing her more violently. His hand reached one of her large, swollen breasts and he squeezed it, groaning as he pushed his hard groin towards her hip.

"Loghain, what are you doing?" Rhiannon pulled away from him slightly.

"I want to make love to my wife", he said and stroked her over her large stomach, down to her soft thighs, spreading her legs with his hand.

"How would that even be possible, in my condition?"

"Don't worry about it", he whispered with a hoarse voice as he started to stroke her warm opening, and she soon became moist and welcoming. She seemed to relax a bit and soon he was able to stroke her into a release. Then he turned her to her side and pushed himself close to her from behind, lifting her leg over his hip and finally guiding himself up inside her.

She moaned as he pushed himself into her, squeezing her swollen breasts and kissing her neck. The desire and consumption of it burned in him and her moans made his blood rush as he moved faster. Her warm body embraced him as he pushed his large body against her and inside her.

After Loghain had finished, he stayed with her, the whole night and just embraced her completely. He didn't want to leave the warmth of her body, but as his hardness recessed he fell out of her slightly, but he was happy lying behind her, stroking her body and feeling his cock squeezed between her thighs. They didn't say anything else to each other and eventually they both fell asleep, Loghain still in his trousers pushed down on his hips. When Rhiannon awoke early in the morning to relieve herself, he awoke as well and when she returned, they made love again – just as intensely as they had a few hours before, until they fell asleep again. _He had truly needed her_. 

* * *

"Me' Lord", a servant peaked in through the door of Loghain's study, "The mistress is in labour", the servant's voice was strained and stressed, and as Loghain looked up from his desk, he saw the worry in the servant's eyes.

"How far has she gone?" Loghain answered trying to keep his voice coolly.

"I don't know, but her water has not yet broke, me' Lord"

Loghain rose from his chair and made his way to their joint bedroom, there he found Rhiannon pacing around the room in her shift, being supported by Castiel. She was breathing in a forced and rhythmic manner and stroked her large stomach as she wandered around the room. The midwife was preparing their bed for the birth together with another servant. Castiel saw him and whispered something to Rhiannon and she turned her head to look at him, smiling softly, but her eyes were filled with pain and worry. She reached out a hand from him and he walked up to her and took her hand, as he hugged her from behind.

"It's going to be fine my love, we've all come into this world in the same way", Loghain tried to force his voice to sound as soft as possible as he kissed her hair and ear, embracing her with his whole body. He felt her squeezing his hand hard as she groaned from the bottom of her guts and started to breath more forcibly and rhythmically. He held her tighter as the contraction came over her. She was already sweating and he ran his hands over her warm and damp arms and she soon relaxed again and leaned back against his chest. "Tell me what you need of me", Loghain whispered to his wife.

"Right now", Rhiannon panted, "Let met lean against you. The contraction's are getting worse"

"Of course", Loghain mumbled and stroked the top of her arms and her chest. He felt as clueless and unable to help as he had done with Celia's two births. All he could do was offer some sort of awkward comfort and he knew it would be of little help. And unlike Celia's mild manner, he knew Rhiannon would curse him tenfold when the real labour set in, for putting her through this. Rhiannon's temper was cooler than his own, but she was fierce and she could almost put the fear of death into even him when she got angry enough. And she _would_ become angry; it was inevitable.

When after a few hours, her water broke, Loghain was shooed out of their bedroom and the midwife took over to examine both Rhiannon and the water. Loghain went to his study and poured a hefty glass of brandy for himself as he sat down in one of the armchairs. He tried to block out the screams he now could hear from Rhiannon, the cries of pain that seemed to come with shorter intervals – and the swearing. She was good at that, screaming and swearing. He would be in for a long night and there was no possibility he would be able to work, hearing his wife scream in pain – _because of him_. He felt an ache of guilt as he cursed himself for putting another woman he loved through this pain. Celia had almost bled to death when she gave birth to their second child, _Rita_ , and Loghain couldn't shake the feeling of anguish as he once again sat, helpless, listening to the cries of labour from his second wife.

He started pacing around his study, eventually downing the whole glass of brandy in one go and quickly refilling it. He had seen so much pain, been the cause of so much death, pain and anguish – but he couldn't handle the pain from Rhiannon, he never could handle it from Celia either. But this was somehow worse, even though he had loved Celia dearly – Rhiannon _owned_ him in a way no one ever had before, not even Rowan had held a spell over him in the same manner, as thing young girl did. She was merely 16 years of age and more than half his own age, but he was completely in her hands emotionally, in a way he'd never imagined he'd ever be.

" _Remove this blighted, Maker damned thing out of me, now!_ "

Loghain heard his wife shriek and curse and he thought that she must now be in full labour, from the sound of her. He walked towards their joint quarters and the living room just outside their bedroom. The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar and he could see Rhiannon sitting in the bed with the midwife working between her spread legs. Rhiannon's hair was falling over her face, the curls sticking to her sweaty skin as she forced her breathing, helping every push, just as the midwife instructed her. Castiel sat beside Rhiannon on the bed, just slightly behind her, rubbing her shoulders and Castiel met his gaze. She smiled carefully and nodded to him, before he turned around and sat down in one of their sofas, burying his head in his palms.

"Just a few more pushes now, me' Lady", he could hear the midwife's strained but calm voice as she guided Rhiannon through the horrid situation she was caught up in. Loghain thought that he really didn't know what was worse, suffering through the actual pains of labour, or having to be the helpless sod waiting and listening, unable to do anything.

After a rather short time, he could hear the scream of a new-born opening its lounges for the first time and hushed talk from within the room and only a few moans from Rhiannon and soon Castiel peaked out from the bedroom.

"My Lord, it's a girl", her eyes shone with a sparkle he'd never seen before, "The Teyrna want's you to come in". Castiel smiled as he looked up from his hands and he impatiently rose from the sofa and almost rushed into their bedroom. There were still quite a lot of bloodied bedclothes lying around the room and the mage midwife was still working between Rhiannon's legs, probably taking care of the afterbirth and making sure she didn't bleed unnaturally.

His eyes met Rhiannon's deep blue hues and she looked up at him with an incredible calm in her entire face and she smiled to him, gesticulating him to come near her. As he sat down beside her on the bed, his eyes fell on a small purple and pink bundle, resting on her chest. The bundle was making small cooing noises, but didn't cry as many new-born's did - the little girl before him simply looked up at him with large blue eyes. She had a thick thatch of straight black hair on her head and as he reached to touch her tiny fingers, she flinched slightly, moving her tiny little lips and followed him with her gaze. He leaned in to kiss Rhiannon deeply and then wiped away some of the damp curls from her face.

"You did well", Loghain smiled to his wife and he felt the worry within him being replaced by a strong pride of this incredible young woman before him and he kissed her again.

"I'd say _we_ did well, Loghain" Rhiannon smiled and looked down on the small bundle in her arms. "She's got ten fingers and ten toes – she's absolutely perfect"

"She is, indeed", Loghain watched his third daughter and softly stroked her silky soft black hair with his large calloused hand. "What's her name?"

"Haelia, I believe", Rhiannon smiled and looked up at him.

"Haelia Mac Tir, it suits her", Loghain watched his daughter and her blue eyes looking back at him. She was born of an incredible woman and would become no less herself, not with a name like that. "That would make her full name lady Elia Rhiannon Haelia Eleanor Cousland Mac Tir, or did I mess up the order of the names?" Loghain smirked as he looked at his wife.

"Elia Rhiannon Haelia Eleanor", Rhiannon paused with a smile, "No, that's the correct order". Rhiannon reached up and stroked Loghain's cheek, tucking one of his braids behind his ear, "She looks very much like you"

"Poor child", Loghain snorted, but with a smile. Haelia had his black straight hair but her eyes was, for now, as deeply blue as her mother's. But he could see his own mother in her; the woman from whom Loghain had inherited his own complexion and straight black hair. Elia, his mother, had believed they had some elven blood, which gave them the strange appearance of raven black hair and pale skin. His mother had aged slowly just as he did, keeping a youthful look about her through out her all to short, adult life. "She looks like my mother", Loghain said softly as he traced the small nose and round cheeks of his daughter.

"If so, she is very blessed" Rhiannon drew her fingers through Loghain's hair as she watched him, watching their daughter. "From what you've told me, she was an exceptionally beautiful woman"

"She was", Loghain nodded softly and met his wife's gaze.


	30. 26 Dangling feet

Chapter 26 – Dangling feet

21st Solace, 9:27 Dragon

Gwaren

 _19th Solace, 9:27 Dragon, Hinterlands_

 _Rhiannon,_

 _I hope all is well with you and Haelia both._

 _We have successfully driven back the forces of the Lords of the Southern Bannorn and pushed them up into Avvar territory in the Frostback Mountains. Oswin is under our control again and the Avvar tribes are continuing to cooperate with us._

 _The Lords of the Southern Bannorn will, Maker willing, stand trial during the Landsmeet for inciting a civil war and the attempted assassination on Teyrn Cousland._

 _You should be present in Denerim for the Landsmeet should I not be able to return in time, and I would urge you to travel by boat with guards present._

 _LMT_

"Thank you. Please let my husband, General Mac Tir, know that my mother and I will book passage for Denerim within the week", Rhiannon nodded to the messenger, "And please, go to the kitchen and get yourself something to eat. I know what kind of food they serve in those army camps"

"Right away, Teyrna Mac Tir and thank you", the military messenger bowed in a soldiers greeting and left for the kitchen.

Rhiannon leaned back into the bench in the blooming castle garden and took Haelia from her grandmother's arms, opening the upper laces of her dress to nurse the child. Eleanor had arrived in Gwaren during Cloudreach when Loghain had to leave with the Gwaren forces to fight back the army of the Southern Bannorn. Minor Lords in the southwest had declared war on the Crown in the wake of the lynchings and the accusations of their involvement in the attempted assassination of Teyrn Cousland. The Bannorn was a very independent part of Ferelden, unruly and hard to control with many minor Lords with Avvar heritage that thought the Crown treacherous and tyrannical. They had been difficult during the Rebellion and were no less so now; constantly seeking independence and keeping large battle-ready armies. Arl Eamon, Bann Loren and Bann Ceorlic had done their best to subdue the escalating situation, however, it hadn't been enough. Rumours had been circulating that at least Arl Eamon and Bann Ceorlic secretly supported the minor Lords of the Southern Bannorn. The fighting had gone on for a few months, without any large losses on the Crown's part and now it seemed, after negotiation with the Avvar tribes of the Frostback Mountains, that the forces Loghain was commanding had been able to drive the enemy forces up against the mountains. Hopefully the war would be subdued and the trials could be held in Kingsway during the Landsmeet.

"Have you heard anything from father?" Rhiannon asked Eleanor as they sat on the bench in the garden, watching Haelia nursing in the soft sunlight under a large breech tree.

"He seems to be doing well, he's riding for Denerim with Howe soon, for the Landsmeet", Eleanor answered and smiled to her daughter and grandchild. "Haelia is a picture of her father, isn't she?"

"She is", Rhiannon smiled as she looked down on her tiny little daughter. Her thick raven hair was still short, but just as straight as the day she was born and her eyes had started turning a lighter shade of blue and grey, like Anora's eyes. She also had the same slim and sharp nose as Anora, most likely deriving from their paternal grandmother, Elia.

Rhiannon sent for a servant to book Eleanor and herself passage to Denerim, together with her two wet-nurses and Castiel. Hopefully they could travel within the week and then they would be in Denerim by the start of the coming week. When Loghain would arrive, however, she did not know. The war could be over fast, but it could as well be drawn out depending on strong of an army the Lords had left. But Rhiannon got a positive hint from the message Loghain had sent her, and she really did miss her husband. She felt emptiness when she was without him and now that he'd been forced to go into war again, commanding the forces of Gwaren and the Crown, she couldn't help but to be worried. He was still the greatest warrior and strategist in Ferelden, no doubt, but he was still but a man. The tales of him told of a godlike man, large and tall, with broad shoulders and piercing white eyes and a sword-hand that could easily cut through half a company of orlesian soldiers in one swing. Much of that was true, indeed, but yet he was a man, _her_ man and he was not invulnerable. The scars covering his body was a sure sign of just that and he was not getting younger, even though he still looked not a day over 35 in his body. Before he left, however, his expression and facial complexion had started to look more tired, he had darker shadows below his eyes and Rhiannon's heart ached as she watched him ride away towards the Bannorn, battle ready in his heavy armour and with the long cloak with the wyvern signia of Gwaren on his shoulders. She had helped him cut his hair shorter, from the flowing length over his back, to a shoulder length, more suitable for battle and she couldn't help but to notice that the shorter hair made him look slightly older in some way. His hair was still very much free from grey streaks, but the lack of the long thick hair, resting on his shoulders, made the wrinkles and dark pools under his eyes more pronounced.

Perhaps it was the fact that he was once more a father to a young little girl, which made him more reluctant to ride out to war?

And then there was Denerim, and _Cailan_. Cailan had stayed in Denerim during the civil war, busy with controlling the regions still loyal to the crown – he had sent her letters, displaying unease and frustration about being stuck in the capital while his men died in battle. However, Rhiannon felt it secure that at least one of the men she loved were safe from battle, to pray for them both had been too much for her, with little Haelia to care for as well. Cailan wrote to her with routine, every month she received a message from Denerim, wearing the royal insignia. Her mother thought it lovely, Rhiannon being on such good terms with the King and Anora alike. Anora didn't write Rhiannon as much as Cailan, but Rhiannon got the feeling Anora wrote her more than she did her father. There was still no sign of Anora being pregnant, which didn't surprise Rhiannon, she knew how Cailan felt and even though he'd expressed no such thing in his letters, she doubted the couple had suddenly starting to share a bed in her absence. If she knew Cailan, which she did, he was too busy relaxing in the arms of strumpets.

 _Damnable, gorgeous man_. 

* * *

Loghain looked out over the field, the summer fog was low and damp, covering the lost men lying on the ground, already starting to rot from the heat as the sun rose in the east behind them. He readjusted his pauldron as he walked towards his tent where ten of his lieutenants had gathered for planning their way up the Frostback Mountains. It was a victory, already, but the implications of this civil war lay heavy on Loghain's shoulders. The fact that it was started by arrows directed at one of Fereldens two Teyrns, told him that this small rising of the Bannorn was just the start of unease all over Ferelden in the wake of king Cailan's new rule. There had been restlessness since Maric had been lost at sea, but it was starting to become more and more intense and the fact that Cailan proved a weak king, only made matters worse and the Lords of the Bannorns was not shy to take advantage.

The Bannorn was obsessed with the Calenhad blood and Arl Eamon was known as a man who opposed Cailan marrying Anora, mostly because of her _common_ bloodline. He had also opposed the marriage between Loghain and Rhiannon, rather seeing Rhiannon marrying Cailan – instead of cementing the Mac Tir's power further by allaying with the Couslands. It made sense Bryce would be punished for allowing the union between his daughter and the Mac Tir's, it made the Bannorn and not only its Lords, but also its Banns and Arls weaker – this union between the two last remaining Teyrnirs. Arl Eamon had always had a strong vote in the Landsmeet, being the uncle of the King, but with the Couslands moving closer to the southeastern Teyrnir of Gwaren and allying with the Mac Tir's, Eamon's vantage point in the Landsmeet was decreasing.

Arl Eamon was intelligent however, and he had openly opposed the rising of the Bannorn, as to not draw attention to himself, but Loghain knew he had something to do with the rising – he just couldn't prove it, as of yet. Eamon had the entire southwest behind him, even regions belonging to the Highever Teyrnir stood behind Eamon when it came to the question of Calenhad's blood. They had been upset when Maric declared his intentions for Cailan to marry Anora, and even worse so when Rhiannon was born and Maric opposed the idea of breaking the betrothal between Anora and Cailan. There was no doubt they would try to throw Anora off her throne, how, no one knew and Loghain believed that least of all Eamon knew, at the moment. But he was cunning, as Rhiannon had said; he was an _opportunist_. Eamon could no longer try to have Rhiannon married to Cailan, since Rhiannon and Loghain had had their first child, unless he tried to kill Loghain as well as Bryce, which wasn't completely out of question. But there were still questions considering the marriage between Anora and Cailan. It had been a year and Anora still wasn't with child, there were rumours their marriage wasn't even properly consummated, that the witnesses to the consummation had been paid off.

The men gathered in Loghain's tent stood around a large makeshift table, there were maps strewn across it and they spoke with each other in low voices, happy, but hushed voices. When Loghain entered, they fell silent and the men greeted him as soldiers do and when Loghain held up his right hand in greeting to them, they smiled and revelled in their victory over the past weeks. These men were both Gwaren and Royal lieutenants and following Loghain, ser Cauthrien also stepped into the tent, Loghain's second in command of the Royal forces. She had recently been promoted to her high station and it suited her well and it meant Loghain could focus more on strategies – while she riled up the men. She was a tall and slim woman, but her slim statue fooled you – just like Rhiannon's short statue was a lie to the eye, they were both immensely strong women, warriors to the bone and possibly even more fierce than Loghain himself. Ser Cauthrien followed Loghain's every gesture and was more loyal than a well-trained mabari, Rhiannon on the other hand, had more problems following orders. She was much more like Rowan in that way, she followed her own will and was meant to _lead_.

Loghain smelled the fires from the pyres burning outside the tent as the nights last fallen were gathered and burned. The fire had the sweet and full smell of corpses as it rose to the sky with the sun and mixed itself with the damp fog on the ground.

"How do we advance up in the mountains?" One of the lieutenants asked as he leaned over the large map of the western Bannorn.

"We use _force_ ", Loghain answered with dry simplicity and then turned on his heels and walked out of the tent, onto the field, wading towards the towering mountains ahead, through the fog beneath him.

ŦHE END

°Ŧ°

* * *

I am currently working on Book II of Rhiannon's adventure and life as the Teyrna of Gwaren, and will start to upload it soon. It's planned to cover the events of the Blight.  
It's a continuing work that might take some time, as I am right now focusing on other stories, among them The Fox's Mind, which focuses on Vulpes Inculta and the Courier in the world of Fallout: New Vegas.  
Thank you kindly for reading.


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